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THE   LIFE   OF   NAPOLEON   I 


The  Life  of  Napoleon  I 


.  INCLUDING  NEW  MATERIALS 
FROM  THE  BRITISH  OFFICUL  RECORDS 


BY 


JOHN   HOLLAND    ROSE,  M.A. 

LATE  SCHOLAR  OF  CHRIST*  8  COLLEGE,  CAMBRIDGE 


"  Let  my  son  often  read  and  reflect  on  history :  this  is  the  only    V 
fame  philosophy." 

—Napoleon'*  Uut  ImtrucUont/or  the  King^Romt. 


THE  MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON :  MACMILLAN  &  CO^  Ltd. 

I9OI 

AU  rights  re  served 


r    ^ 


Copyright,  1901, 

bt  the  magmillan  company. 


ITotfoooli  9tms 

J.  8.  Coihlng  ft  Go.  —  Berwick  h  Smith 
Norwood  Maw.  U.8.A. 


DEDICATED 

TO  THB 

RIGHT    HONOURABLE    LORD   ACTON 

K.O.T.O.,    D.C.L.,    LL.D. 

REGIUS  PROFESSOR  OF  MODERN  HISTORY 

IN  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

CAMBRIDQE 

IN  ADMIRATION  OF   HIS  PROFOUND 

HISTORICAL  LEARNING 

AND   IN 

GRATITUDE   FOR  ADVICE  AND  HELP 

GENEROUSLY  GIVEN 


111      • 


PREFACE 

Ak  apology  seems  to  be  called  for  from  anyone  who 
gives  to  the  world  a  new  Life  of  Napoleon  I.  My  excuse 
must  be  that  for  many  years  I  have  sought  to  revise  the 
traditional  story  of  his  career  in  the  light  of  facts  gleaned 
from  the  British  Archives  and  of  the  many  valuable  mate- 
rials that  have  recently  been  published  by  continental 
historians.  To  explain  my  manner  of  dealing  with  these 
sources  would  require  an  elaborate  critical  Introduction ; 
but,  as  the  limits  of  my  space  absolutely  preclude  any 
such  attempt,  I  can  only  briefly  refer  to  the  most  impor- 
tant topics. 

To  deal  with  the  published  sources  first,  I  would  name 
as  of  chief  importance  the  works  of  MM.  Aulard,  Chuquet, 
Houssaye,  Sorel,  and  Vandal  in  France ;  of  Herren  Beer, 
Delbriick,  Foumier,  Lehmann,  Oncken,  and  Wertheimer 
in  Germany  and  Austria  ;  and  of  Baron  Lumbroso  in 
Italy.  I  have  also  profited  largely  by  the  scholarly  mono- 
graphs or  collections  of  documents  due  to  the  labours  of 
the  "  Societe  d'Histoire  Contemporaine,"  the  General  Staff 
of  the  French  Army,  of  MM.  Bouvier,  Caudrillier,  Capi- 
taine  "  J.  G.,"  Levy,  Madelin,  Sagnac,  Sciout,  Zivy,  and 
others  in  France ;  and  of  Herren  Bailleu,  Demelitsch, 
Hansing,  Klinkowstrom,  Luckwaldt,  Ulmann,  and  others 
in  Germany.  Some  of  the  recently  published  French 
Memoirs  dealing  with  those  times  are  not  devoid  of  value, 
though  this  class  of  literature  is  to  be  used  with  caution. 
The  new  letters  of  Napoleon  published  by  M.  Leon  Le- 
cestre  and  M.  Leonce  de  Brotonne  have  also  opened  up 

vii 


yiii  FBBFACB 

fresh  vistas  into  the  life  of  the  great  man  ;  and  the  time 
seems  to  have  come  when  we  may  safely  revise  our  judg- 
ments on  many  of  its  episodes. 

But  I  should  not  have  ventured  on  this  great  undertak- 
ing, had  I  not  been  able  to  contribute  something  new  to 
Napoleonic  literature.  During  a  study  of  this  period  for 
an  earlier  work  published  in  the  ^^  Cambridge  Historical 
Series,"  I  ascertained  the  great  value  of  the  British  Rec- 
ords for  the  years  1795-1816.  It  is  surely  discreditable 
to  our  historical  research  that,  apart  from  the  fruitful 
labours  of  the  Navy  Records  Society,  of  Messrs.  Oscar 
Browning  and  Hereford  George,  and  of  Mr.  Bowman  of 
Toronto,  scarcely  any  English  work  has  appeared  that  is 
based  on  the  official  records  of  this  period.  Yet  they  are 
of  great  interest  and  value.  Our  diplomatic  agents  then 
had  the  knack  of  getting  at  State  secrets  in  most  foreign 
capitals,  even  when  we  were  at  war  with  their  Govern- 
ments ;  and  our  War  Office  and  Admiralty  Records  have 
also  yielded  me  some  interesting  "finds."  M.  Levy,  in 
the  preface  to  his  "Napoleon  intime"  (1893),  has  well 
remarked  that "  the  documentary  history  of  the  wars  of 
the  Empire  has  not  yet  been  written.  To  write  it  accu- 
rately, it  will  be  more  important  thoroughly  to  know  for- 
eign archives  than  those  of  France."  Those  of  Russia, 
Austria,  and  Prussia  have  now  for  the  most  part  been 
examined ;  and  I  think  that  I  may  claim  to  have  searched 
all  the  important  parts  of  our  Foreign  Office  Archives  for 
the  years  in  question,  as  well  as  for  part  of  the  St.  Helena 
period.  I  have  striven  to  embody  the  results  of  this 
search  in  the  present  volumes  as  far  as  was  compatible 
with  limits  of  space  and  with  the  narrative  form  at  which, 
in  my  judgment,  history  ought  always  to  aim. 

On  the  whole,  British  policy  comes  out  the  better  the 
more  fully  it  is  known.    Though  often  feeble  and  vacillat- 


PREFACE  ix 

ing,  it  finally  attained  to  firmness  and  dignity ;  and  Min- 
isters closed  the  cycle  of  war  with  acts  of  magnanimity 
towards  the  French  people  which  are  studiously  ignored 
by  those  who  bid  us  shed  tears  over  the  martyrdom  of 
St.  Helena.  Nevertheless,  the  splendour  of  the  finale 
must  not  blind  us  to  the  flaccid  eccentricities  that  made 
British  statesmanship  the  laughing-stock  of  Europe  in 
1801-8,  1806-7,  and  1809.  Indeed,  it  is  questionable 
whether  the  renewal  of  war  between  England  and  Napo- 
leon in  1803  was  due  more  to  his  innate-  forcefulness  or 
to  the  contempt  which  he  felt  for  the  Addington  Cabinet. 
When  one  also  remembers  our  extraordinary  blunders  in 
the  war  of  the  Third  Coalition,  it  seems  a  miracle  that 
the  British  Empire  survived  that  life  and  death  struggle 
against  a  man  of  superhuman  genius  who  was  determined 
to  effect  its  overthrow.  I  have  called  special  attention  to 
the  extent  and  pertinacity  of  Napoleon's  schemes  for  the 
foundation  of  a  French  Colonial  Empire  in  India,  Egypt, 
South  Africa,  and  Australia ;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  events  of  the  years  1803-13  determined,  not  only 
the  destinies  of  Europe  and  Napoleon,  but  the  general 
trend  of  the  world's  colonization. 

As  it  has  been  necessary  to  condense  the  story  of  Napo- 
leon's life  in  some  parts,  I  have  chosen  to  treat  with  special 
brevity  the  years  1809-11,  which  may  be  called  the  con- 
9tans  aeta%  of  his  career,  in  order  to  have  more  space  for 
the  decisive  events  that  followed ;  but  even  in  these  less 
eventful  years  I  have  striven  to  show  how  his  Continental 
System  was  setting  at  work  mighty  economic  forces  that 
made  for  his  overthrow,  so  that  after  the  dSbdcle  of  1812 
it  came  to  be  a  struggle  of  Napoleon  and  France  corUra 
tnundum. 

While  not  neglecting  the  personal  details  of  the  great 
man's  life,  I  have  dwelt  mainly  on  his  public   career. 


X  PBEFACB 

Apart  from  his  brilliant  conversations,  his  private  life 
has  few  features  of  abiding  interest,  perhaps  because  he 
early  tired  of  the  shallowness  of  Josephine  and  the  Corsi- 
can  angularity  of  his  brothers  and  sisters.  But  the  cause 
also  lay  in  his  own  disposition.  He  once  said  to  M.  Gal- 
lois:  "Je  n'aime  pas  beaucoup  les  femmes,  ni  le  jeu  — 
enfin  rien :  je  8uis  tout  d  fait  un  Stre  politique.^^  In  deal- 
ing with  him  as  a  warrior  and  statesman,  and  in  sparing 
my  readers  details  as  to  his  bolting  his  food,  sleeping  at 
concerts,  and  indulging  in  amours  where  for  him  there 
was  no  glamour  of  romance,  I  am  laying  stress  on  what 
interested  him  most  —  in  a  word,  I  am  taking  him  at 
his  best. 

I  could  not  have  accomplished  this  task,  even  in  the 
present  inadequate  way,  but  for  the  help  generously 
accorded  from  many  quarters.  My  heartfelt  thanks  are 
due  to  Lord  Acton,  Regius  Professor  of  Modern  History 
in  the  University  of  Cambridge,  for  advice  of  the  highest 
importance;  to  Mr.  Hubert  Hall,  of  the  Public  Record 
OflBce,  for  guidance  in  my  researches!  there ;  to  Baron 
Lumbroso  of  Rome,  editor  of  the  ^^  Bibliografia  ragionata 
deir  Epoca  Napoleonica,^'  for  hints  on  Italian  and  other 
affairs ;  to  Dr.  Luckwaldt,  Privat  Decent  of  the  University 
of  Bonn,  and  author  of  "  Oesterreich  und  die  Anfange  des 
Befreiungs-Krieges,"  for  his  very  scholarly  revision  of  the 
chapters  on  German  affairs ;  to  Mr.  F.  H.  E.  Cunliffe,  M.A., 
Fellow  of  All  Souls'  College,  Oxford,  for  valuable  advice 
on  the  campaigns  of  1800,  1805,  and  1806 ;  to  Professor 
Caudrillier  of  Grenoble,  author  of  "  Pichegru,"  for  infor- 
mation respecting  the  royalist  plot ;  and  to  Messrs.  J.  E. 
Morris,  M.  A.,  and  E.  L.  S.  Horsburgh,  B.  A.,  for  detailed 
communications  concerning  Waterloo.  The  nieces  of  the 
late  Professor  Westwood  of  Oxford  most  kindly  allowed 
the  facsimile  of  the  new  Napoleon  letter,  printed  opposite 


PREFACE  xi 

p.  143  of  vol.  i.,  to  be  made  from  the  original  in  their 
possession ;  and  Miss  Lowe  courteously  placed  at  my  dis- 
posal the  papers  of  her  father  relating  to  the  years  1813- 
1815,  as  well  as  to  the  St.  Helena  period.  I  wish  here  to 
record  my  grateful  obligations  for  all  these  friendly  cour- 
tesies, which  have  given  value  to  the  book,  besides  sav- 
ing me  from  many  of  the  pitfalls  with  which  the  subject 
abounds.  That  I  have  escaped  them  altogether  is  not 
to  be  imagined ;  but  I  can  honestly  say,  in  the  words  of 
the  late  Bishop  of  London,  that  ^^I  have  tried  to  write 
true  history." 

J,  M.  R* 


[Note. — The  references  to  Napoleon's  **  Correspondence "  in  the 
notes  are  to  the  ofiQcial  French  edition,  published  under  the  auspices  of 
Kai>oleon  III.  The  **  New  Letters  of  Napoleon  '*  are  those  edited  by  L^n 
Leoestre,  and  translated  into  English  by  Lady  Mary  Loyd,  except  in  a 
very  few  cases  where  M.  L^nce  de  Brotonne's  still  more  recent  edition 
is  cited  under  his  name.  By  **F.  0.,"  France,  No.  — ,  and  *»F.  0.," 
Prussia,  No.  — ,  are  meant  the  volumes  of  our  Foreign  Office  despatches 
relating  to  France  and  Prussia.  For  the  sake  of  brevity  I  have  called 
Napoleon's  Marshals  and  high  officials  by  their  names,  not  by  their  titles ; 
but  a  list  of  these  is  given  at  the  close  of  vol.  ii.] 


CONTENTS 

PASS 

I.    Parentage  and  Early  Tears 1 

11.    The  French  Revolution  and  Corsica  ...  22 

m.     TotJLON 40 

rv.    Vendemiairb 52 

V.    The  Italian  Campaign  (1796) 70 

VI.    The  Fights  for  Mantua 96 

VU.    Leoben  to  Campo  Formio 128 

Vm.    Egypt 159 

IX.    Syria 184 

X.    Brumaire 198 

XI.    Marengo:  Lun^ville 221 

Xn.    The  New  Institutions  op  France  z^  .        .        .  245 

Xm.    The  Consulate  for  Life  ^    .        .        .        .        .  279 

XIV.    The  Peace  of  Amiens 306 

XV.    A    French    Colonial    Empire  :    St.    Domingo  — 

Louisiana  —  India  —  Australia  ....  329 

XVI.    Napoleon's  Interventions 357 

XVII.    The  Renewal  of  War 371 

XVm.    Europe  and  the  Bonapartes 397 

XIX.    The  Royalist  Plot 412 

XX.    The  Dawn  of  the  Empire*^ 429 

XXI.    The  Boulogne  Flotilla 445 

APPENDIX 

Rsports    hitherto    unpublished   on    (a)    The   Sale    of 
Louisiana;    (6)   The   Irish   Division   in   Napoleon's 

Service 469 

ziU 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Napoleon  Bonaparte  as  First  Consul,  from  the  painting  by 
Isabey,  in  the  Museum  at  Versailles       .        .        .        Frontispiece 

TO  FAOS  PAOI 

Madame  fiuonaparte  (Napoleon's  Mother),  from  the  original 

painting  in  the  Town  Hall  at  Ajaccio 6 

The  Attack  on  the  Tuileries,  August  10th,  1792  ....  33 
The  Execution  of  Marie  Antoinette,  October  16tb,  1793  .  .  38 
Robespierre,   Couthon,   and  St.  Just  declared  Traitors  at  the 

Hdtel  de  ViUe,  July  28th,  1794 54 

Napoleon  and  Josephine  (medallions) 68 

The  Passage  of  the  Bridge  of  Lodi,  1796 85 

The  Entry  of  the  French  into  Milan,  1796 88 

Medals  illustrating  the  Years  1796-8 105 

The  SpoUation  of  St.  Mark's,  Venice,  1797 134 

Facsimile  of  a  Letter  of  Napoleon  to  "  La  Citoyenne  Tallien," 

1797 143 

The  Third  Convoy  of  Statues  leaving  Rome,  1798  .        .163 

The  Battle  of  the  Nile,  1798  .        .        .        .        .        .        .175 

Bonaparte  at  St  Cloud,  November  10th,  1800      .  .207 

Medals — (1)  Napoleon  at  the  Battle  of  the  Pyramids;  (2)  The 

Three  Consuls  —  Bonaparte,  Cambac^rfes,  and  Lebrun  .  .  216 
The  Passage  of  Mount  St.  Bernard,  May,  1800     .        .        .        .227 

The  Battle  of  Marengo 237 

The  Town  and  Fortifications  of  Malta,  from  an  Engraving  by 

Goupy 315 

French  Map  of  the  South  of  Australia  .  .  352 
Pauline  Bonaparte .^^  408 

XV 


\ 
> 


XVi  ILLUSTRATIONS,  MAPS,  AND  PLANS 

TO  PACT  PAGB 

The  Due  d'Enghien 424 

General  Moreau 436 

Napoleon  crowning  Josephine 443 

Raft  devised  for  the  Invasion  of  England 448 

Medals  to  commemorate  the  Rupture  of  the  Treaty  of  Amiens 

and  the  Invasion  of  England 465 


MAPS  AND  PLANS 


The  Siege  of  Toulon,  1793    .... 

Map  to  illustrate  the  Campaigns  in  North  Italy 

Plan  to  illustrate  the  Victory  of  Areola 

The  Neighbourhood  of  Rivoli 

Central  Europe,  after  the  Peace  of  Campo  Formio,  1797 

Plan  of  the  Siege  of  Acre,  from  a  Contemporary  Sketch 

The  Battle  of  Marengo,  to  illustrate  EeUermann's  Charge 


pi«i 
47 
73 
115 
122 
157 
187 
235 


NOTE  ON  THE  REPUBLICAN  CALENDAR 

The  republican  calendar  consisted  of  twelve  months  of  thirty  days 
r  each,  each  month  being  divided  into  three  '*  decades  "  of  ten  days.    Five 

[  days  (in  leap  years  six)  were  added  at  the  end  of  the  year  to  bring  it 

f  into  coincidence  with  the  solar  year. 

^  An        I  began  Sept.  22,  1792. 

„        II      „         „  1793. 

I  „      HI      „         ,,  1794. 

h  „       IV  (leap  year)         1795. 

«  «  •  « 

„  VIII  began  Sept.  22,  1799. 
„   IX   „   Sept.  23,  1800. 

i  „    X   „    „     1801. 

«     «     •     « 

„  XIV   „    „     1805. 

The  new  computation,  though  reckoned  from  Sept.  22,  1792,  was 
not  introduced  until  Nov.  26,  1793  (An  II).  It  ceased  after  Dec.  31, 
1805. 

The  months  are  as  follows : 

Vend^miaire    ....  Sept.  22  to  Oct.  21. 

Brumaire Oct.  22  „  Nov.  20. 

Frimaire Nov.  21  „  Dec.  20. 

Nivdse Dec.  21  „  Jan.  19. 

Pluviose Jan.  20  „  Feb.  18. 

Ventdse Feb.  19  „  Mar.  20. 

Germinal Mar.  21  „  April  19. 

Flor^al April  20  „  May  19. 

Prairial May  20  „  June  18. 

Messidor June  19  „  July  18. 

Thermidor July  19  „  Aug.  17. 

Fructidor Aug.  18  „  Sept.  16. 

Add  five  (in  leap  years  six)  "  Sansculottides  "  or  "  Jours  compl^- 
mentaires." 

In  1796  (leap  year)  the  numbers  in  the  table  of  months,  so  far  as 
concerns  all  dates  between  Feb.  28  and  Sept.  22,  will  have  to  be  reduced 
hy  one,  owing  to  the  intercalation  of  Feb.  29,  which  is  not  compensatf^ 
for  until  the  end  of  the  republican  year. 

The  matter  is  further  complicates  by  the  fact  that  the  republicans 
reckoned  An  VIII  as  a  leap  year,  though  it  is  not  one  in  the  Gregorian 
Calendar.  Hence  that  year  ended  on  Sept.  22,  and  An  IX  and  suc- 
ceeding years  began  on  Sept.  23.  Consequently  in  the  above  table  of 
months  the  numbers  of  all  days  from  Vend^miaire  1,  An  IX  (Sept.  23, 
1800),  to  Nivdse  10,  An  XIV  (Dec.  31,  1805),  inclusive,  will  have  to 
be  increased  by  one,  except  only  in  the  next  leap  year  between  Ventdse 
9,  An  XII,  and  Vend^miaire  1,  An  XIII  (Feb.  28-Sept.  23,  1804), 
when  the  two  Revolutionary  aberrations  happen  to  neutralize  each 
other, 

xvH 


THE  LIFE   OF  NAPOLEON   I 


THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I 


CHAPTER  I 

PAREIJTAGE  AND  EARLY  YEARS 

"  I  WAS  born  when  my  country  was  perishing.  Thirty 
thousand  French  Vomited  upon  our  coasts,  drowning  the 
throne  of  Liberty  in  waves  of  blood,  such  was  the  sight 
which  struck  my  eyes."  This  passionate  utterance,  penned 
by  Napoleon  Buonaparte  at  the  beginning  of  the  French 
Revolution,  describes  the  state  of  Corsica  in  his  natal  year. 
The  words  are  instinct  with  the  vehemence  of  the  youth 
and  the  extravagant  sentiment  of  the  age  :  they  strike 
the  keynote  of  his  career.  His  life  was  one  of  strain  and 
stress  from  his  cradle  to  his  grave. 

In  his  temperament  as  in  the  circumstances  of  his  time 
the  young  Buonaparte  was  destined  for  an  extraordinary 
career.  Into  a  tottering  civilization  he  burst  with  all  the 
masterful  force  of  an  Alaric.  But  he  was  an  Alaric  of 
the  south,  uniting  the  untamed  strength  of  his  island  kin- 
dred  with  the  mental  powers  of  his  Italian  ancestry.  In 
his  personality  there  is  a  complex  blending  of  force  and 
grace,  of  animal  passion  and  mental  clearness,  of  northern 
common  sense  with  the  promptings  of  an  oriental  imagina- 
tion ;  and  this  union  in  his  nature  of  seeming  opposites 
explains  many  of  the  mysteries  of  his  life.  Fortunatelv 
for  lovers  of  romance,  genius  cannot  be  wholly  analyzed, 
even  by  the  most  adroit  historical  philosophizer  or  the 
most  exacting  champion  of  heredity.  But  in  so  far  as 
the  sources  of  Napoleon's  power  can  be  measured,  they 
may  be  traced  to  the  unexampled  needs  of  mankind  in 
the  revolutionary  epoch  and  to  his  own  exceptional  endow- 
ments.    Evidently,  then,  the  characteristics  of  his  family 

B  1 


2  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

claim  some  attention  from  all  who  would  understand  the 
man  and  the  influence  which  he  was  to  wield  over  modern 
Europe. 

It  has  been  the  fortune  of  his  House  to  be  the  subject 
of  dispute  from  first  to  last.  Some  writers  have  endeav- 
oured to  trace  its  descent  back  to  the  Caesars  of  Rome, 
others  to  the  Byzantine  Emperors ;  one  genealogical  ex- 
plorer has  tracked  the  family  to  Majorca,  and,  altering  its 
name  to  Bonpart,  has  discovered  its  progenitor  in  the 
Man  of  the  Iron  Mask;  while  the  Duchesse  d'Abrantes, 
voyaging  eastwards  in  quest  of  its  ancestors,  has  confi- 
dently claimed  for  the  family  a  Greek  origin.  Painstak- 
ing research  has  dispelled  these  romancings  of  historical 
trouveurs,  and  has  connected  this  enigmatic  stock  with  a 
Florentine  named  William,  who  in  the  year  1261  took  the 
surname  of  Bonaparte  or  Buonaparte.  The  name  seems 
to  have  been  assumed  when,  amidst  the  unceasing  strifes 
between  Guelfs  and  Ghibellines  that  rent  the  civic  life  of 
Florence,  William's  party,  the  Ghibellines,  for  a  brief 
space  gained  the  ascendancy.  But  perpetuity  was  not  to 
be  found  in  Florentine  politics ;  and  in  a  short  time  he 
was  a  fugitive  at  a  Tuscan  village,  Sarzana,  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  victorious  Guelfs.  Here  the  family  seems  to 
have  lived  for  wellnigh  three  centuries,  maintaining  its 
Ghibelline  and  aristocratic  principles  with  surprising  te- 
nacity. The  age  was  not  remarkable  for  the  virtue  of  con- 
stancy, or  any  other  virtue.  Politics  and  private  life  were 
alike  demoralized  by  unceasing  intrigues ;  and  amidst 
strifes  of  Pope  and  Emperor,  duchies  and  republics,  cities 
and  autocrats,  there  was  formed  that  type  of  Italian  char- 
acter which  is  delineated  in  the  pages  of  Macchiavelli- 
From  the  depths  of  debasement  of  that  cynical  age  the 
Buonapartes  were  saved  by  their  poverty,  and  by  the  iso- 
lation of  their  life  at  Sarzana.  Yet  the  embassies  dis- 
charged at  intervals  by  the  more  talented  members  of 
the  family  showed  that  the  gifts  for  intrigue  were  only 
dormant ;  and  they  were  certainly  transmitted  in  their 
intensity  to  the  greatest  scion  of  the  race. 

In  the  year  1529  Francis  Buonaparte,  whether  pressed 
by  poverty  or  distracted  by  despair  at  the  misfortunes 
which    then   overwhelmed    Italy,   migrated    to    Corsica. 


1  FABENTA6S  AND  BABLT  TEABS  S 

There  the  famQy  was  grafted  upon  a  tougher  branch  of 
the  Italian  race.  To  the  vulpine  characteristics  deyel- 
oped  under  the  shadow  of  the  Medici  there  were  now 
added  qualities  of  a  more  virile  stamp.  Though  domi- 
nated in  turn  by  the  masters  of  the  Mediterranean,  by 
Carthaginians,  Romans,  Vandals,  by  the  men  of  Pisa, 
and  finally  by  the  Genoese  Republic,  the  islanders  re- 
tained a  striking  individuality.  The  rock-bound  coast 
and  mountainous  interior  helped  to  preserve  the  essen- 
tial features  of  primitive  life.  Foreign  Powers  might 
affect  the  towns  on  the  sea-board,  but  they  left  the  clans 
of  the  interior  comparatively  untouched.  Their  life  cen- 
tred around  the  family.  The  Government  counted  for 
little  or  nothing;  for  was  it  not  the  symbol  of  the  de- 
tested foreign  rule?  Its  laws  were  therefore  as  naught 
when  they  conflicted  with  the  unwritten  but  omnipotent 
code  of  family  honour.  A  slight  inflicted  on  a  neighbour 
would  call  forth  the  warning  words  —  "  Guard  thyself :  I 
am  on  my  guard.'*  Forthwith  there  began  a  blood  feud, 
a  vendetta,  which  frequently  dragged  on  its  dreary  course 
through  generations  of  conspiracy  and  murder,  until,  the 
principals  having  vanished,  the  collateral  branches  of  the 
families  were  involved.  No  Corsican  was  so  loathed  as 
the  laggard  who  shrank  from  avenging  the  family  honour, 
even  on  a  distant  relative  of  the  first  offender.  The  mur- 
der of  the  Due  d'Enghien  by  Napoleon  in  1804  sent  a 
thrill  of  horror  through  the  Continent.  To  the  Corsicans 
it  seemed  little  more  than  an  autocratic  version  of  the 
vendetta  traversale.^ 

The  vendetta  was  the  chief  law  of  Corsican  society  up 
to  comparatively  recent  times;  and  its  effects  are  still 
visible  in  the  life  of  the  stern  islanders.  In  his  charming 
romance,  "  Colomba,"  M.  Prosper  Merimee  has  depicted 

1  From  a  French  work,  **Mobut8  et  CoAtames  des  Corses"  (Paris, 
1802),  I  take  the  following  incident  A  priest,  charged  with  the  duty 
of  avenging  a  relative  for  some  fourteen  years,  met  his  enemy  at  the  gate 
of  Ajaocio  and  forthwith  shot  him,  under  the  eyes  of  an  official — who 
did  nothing.  A  relative  of  the  murdered  man,  happening  to  be  near,  shot 
the  priest.  Both  victims  were  quickly  buried,  the  priest  being  interred 
under  the  altar  of  the  church,  "  because  of  his  sacred  character."  See 
loo  Miot  de  Melito,  "M^moires,"  vol.  i.,  ch.  xiii.,  as  to  the  utter  collapse 
of  the  jury  system  in  1800-1,  because  no  Corsican  would  ''  deny  his  party 
or  desert  his  blood. '* 


4  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chaf. 

the  typical  Corsican,  even  of  the  towns,  as  preoccupied, 
gloomy,  suspicious,  ever  on  the  alert,  hovering  about  his 
dwelling,  like  a  falcon  over  his  nest,  seemingly  in  prepa- 
ration for  attack  or  defence.  Laughter,  the  song,  the 
dance,  were  rarely  heard  in  the  streets ;  for  the  women, 
after  acting  as  the  drudges  of  the  household,  were  kept 
jealously  at  home,  while  their  lords  smoked  and  watched. 
If  a  game  at  hazard  were  ventured  upon,  it  ran  its  course 
in  silence,  which  not  seldom  was  broken  by  the  shot  or 
the  stab  —  first  warning  that  there  had  been  underhand 
play.     The  deed  always  preceded  the  word. 

In  such  a  life,  where  commerce  and  agriculture  were 
despised,  where  woman  was  mainly  a  drudge  and  man  a 
conspirator,  there  grew  up  the  tjrpical  Corsican  tempera- 
ment, moody  and  exacting,  but  withal  keen,  brave,  and 
constant,  which  looked  on  the  world  as  a  fencing-school 
for  the  glorification  of  the  family  and  the  clan.^  Of  this 
type  Napoleon  was  to  be  the  supreme  exemplar ;  and  the 
fates  granted  him  as  an  arena  a  chaotic  France  and  a  dis- 
tracted Europe. 

Amidst  that  grim  Corsican  existence  the  Buonapartes 
passed  their  lives  during  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
centuries.  Occupied  as  advocates  and  lawyers  with  such 
details  of  the  law  as  were  of  any  practical  importance, 
they  must  have  been  involved  in  family  feuds  and  the 
oft-recurring  disputes  between  Corsica  and  the  suzerain 
Power,  Genoa.  As  became  dignitaries  in  the  munici- 
pality of  Ajaccio,  several  of  the  Buonapartes  espoused 
the  Genoese  side ;  and  the  Genoese  Senate  in  a  docu- 
ment of  the  year  1652  styled  one  of  them,  Jerome, 
"Egregius  Hieronimus  di  Buonaparte,  procurator  Nobi- 
lium."      These    distinctions    they    seem    to   have   little 

^  As  to  the  tenacity  of  Corsican  devotion,  I  may  cite  a  curious  proof 
from  the  unpublished  portion  of  the  **  Memoirs  of  Sir  Hudson  Lowe/' 
He  was  colonel  in  command  of  the  Royal  Corsican  Rangers,  enrolled  dur- 
ing the  British  occupation  of  Corsica,  and  gained  the  affections  of  his 
men  during  several  years  of  fighting  in  Egypt  and  elsewhere.  When 
stationed  at  Capri  in  1808  he  relied  on  his  Corsican  levies  to  defend  that 
island  against  Murat^s  attacks;  and  he  did  not  rely  in  vain.  Though 
confronted  by  a  French  Corsican  regiment,  they  remained  true  to  their 
salt,  even  during  a  truce,  when  they  could  recognize  their  compatriots. 
The  partisan  instinct  was  proof  against  the  promises  of  Murat^s  envoys 
and  the  shouts  even  of  kith  and  kin. 


I  PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  TEARS  6 

coveted.  Very  few  families  belonged  to  the  Corsican 
noblesscj  and  their  fiefs  were  unimportant.  In  Corsica, 
as  in  the  Forest  Cantons  of  Switzerland  and  the  High- 
lands of  Scotland,  class  distinctions  were  by  no  means 
so  coveted  as  in  lands  that  had  been  thoroughly  feudal- 
ized; and  the  Buonapartes,  content  .with  their  civic 
dignities  at  Ajaccio  and  the  attachment  of  their  par- 
tisans on  their  country  estates,  seem  rarely  to  have  used 
the  prefix  which  implied  nobility.  Their  life  was  not 
unlike  that  of  many  an  old  Scottish  laird,  who,  though 
possibly  bourgeois  in  origin,  yet  by  courtesy  ranked  as 
chieftain  among  his  tenants,  and  was  ennobled  by  the 
parlance  of  the  countryside,  perhaps  all  the  more  readily 
because  he  refused  to  wear  the  honours  that  came  from 
over  the  Border.  , 

But  a  new  influence  was  now  to  call  forth  all  the  powers 
of  this  tough  stock.  In  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury we  find  the  head  of  the  family,  Charles  Marie  Buona- 
parte, aglow  with  the  flame  of  Corsican  patriotism  then 
being  kindled  by  the  noble  career  of  Paoli.  This  gifted 
patriot,  the  champion  of  the  islanders,  first  against  the 
Genoese  and  later  against  the  French,  desired  to  cement 
by  education  the  framework  of  the  Corsican  Common- 
wealth and  founded  a  university.  It  was  here  that  the 
father  of  the  future  French  Emperor  received  a  training 
in  law,  and  a  mental  stimulus  which  was  to  lift  his  family 
above  the  level  of  the  caporali  and  attorneys  with  whom 
its  lot  had  for  centuries  been  cast.  His  ambition  is  seen 
in  the  endeavour,  successfully  carried  out  by  his  uncle, 
Lucien,  Archdeacon  of  Ajaccio,  to  obtain  recognition  of 
kinship  with  the  Buonapartes  of  Tuscany  who  had  been 
ennobled  by  the  Grand  Duke.  His  patriotism  is  evinced 
in  his  ardent  support  of  Paoli,  by  whose  valour  and  energy 
the  Genoese  were  finally  driven  from  the  island.  Amidst 
these  patriotic  triumphs  Charles  confronted  his  destiny  in 
the  person  of  Letizia  Ramolino,  a  beautiful  girl,  descended 
from  an  honourable  Florentine  family  which  had  for  cen- 
turies been  settled  in  Corsica.  The  wedding  took  place 
in  1764,  the  bridegroom  being  then  eighteen  and  the  bride 
fifteen  years  of  age.  The  union,  if  rashly  undertaken  in 
the  midst  of  civU  strifes,  was  yet  well  assorted.     Both 


6  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

parties  to  it  were  of  patrician,  if  not  definitely  noble  de- 
scent, and  came  of  families  which  combined  the  intellec- 
tual gifts  of  Tuscany  with  the  vigour  of  their  later  island 
horae.^  From  her  mother's  race,  the  Pietra  Santa  family, 
Letizia  imbibed  the  habits  of  the  most  backward  and  sav- 
age part  of  Corsica,  where  vendettas  were  rife  and  educa- 
tion was  almost  unknown.  Left  in  ignorance  in  her  early 
days,  she  yet  was  accustomed  to  hardships,  and  often 
showed  the  fertility  of  resource  which  such  a  life  always 
develops.  Hence,  at  the  time  of  her  marriage,  she  pos- 
sessed a  firmness  of  will  far  beyond  her  years;  and  her 
strength  and  fortitude  enabled  her  to  survive  the  terrible 
adversities  of  her  early  days,  as  also  to  meet  with  quiet 
matronly  dignity  the  extraordinary  honours  showered  on 
her  as  the  mother  of  the  French  Emperor.  She  was  inured 
to  habits  of  frugality,  which  reappeared  in  the  personal 
tastes  of  her  son.  In  fact,  she  so  far  retained  her  old 
parsimonious  habits,  even  amidst  the  splendours  of  the 
French  Imperial  Court,  as  to  expose  herself  to  the  charge 
of  avarice.  But  there  is  a  touching  side  to  all  this.  She 
seems  ever  to  have  felt  that  after  the  splendour  there 
would  come  again  the  old  days  of  adversity,  and  her 
instincts  were  in  one  sense  correct.  She  lived  on  to  the 
advanced  age  of  eighty-six,  and  died  twenty-one  years 
after  the  break-up  of  her  son's  empire  —  a  striking  proof 
of  the  vitality  and  tenacity  of  her  powers. 

A  kindly  Providence  veiled  the  future  from  the  young 
couple.  Troubles  fell  swiftly  upon  them  both  in  private 
and  in  public  life.  Their  first  two  children  died  in  in- 
fancy. The  third,  Joseph,  was  born  in  1768,  when  the 
Corsican  patriots  were  making  their  last  successful  efforts 
against  their  new  French  oppressors :  the  fourth,  the 
famous  Napoleon,  saw  the  light  on  August  15th,  1769, 
when  the  liberties  of  Corsica  were  being  finally  extin- 
guished. Nine  other  children  were  bom  before  the  out- 
break of  the  French  Revolution  reawakened  civil  strifes, 

^  The  facts  as  to  the  family  of  Napoleon^s  mother  are  given  in  full 
detail  by  M.  Masson  in  his  **  Napoleon  Inconnu/*  ch.  i.  They  correct 
the  statement  often  made  as  to  her  *Mowly,*^  **  peasant  *^  origin.  Masson 
also  proves  that  the  house  at  Ajaccio,  which  is  shown  as  Napoleon's 
birthplace,  is  of  later  construction,  though  on  the  same  site. 


MADAME   BUONAPARTE  (NAPOI.EON'S   MOTHKK). 
From  Ihe  picture  in  (he  Town  Hall,  Ajacciii. 


I  PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  TEARS  7 

amidst  which  the  then  fatherless  family  was  tossed  to  and 
fro,  and  finally  whirled  away  to  France, 

Destiny  had  already  linked  the  fortunes  of  the  young 
Napoleon  Buonaparte  with  those  of  France.  After  the 
downfall  of  Genoese  rule  in  Corsica,  France  had  taken 
over,  for  empty  promises,  the  claims  of  the  hard-pressed 
Italian  republic  to  its  troublesome  island  possession.  It 
was  a  cheap  and  practical  way  of  restoring,  at  least  in 
the  Mediterranean,  the  shattered  prestige  of  the  French 
Bourbons.  They  had  previously  intervened  in  Corsican 
affairs  on  the  side  of  the  Genoese.  Yet  in  1764  Paoli 
appealed  to  Louis  XV.  for  protection.  It  was  granted, 
in  the  form  of  troops  that  proceeded  quietly  to  occupy  the 
coast  towns  of  the  island  under  cover  of  friendly  assur- 
ances. In  1768,  before  the  expiration  of  an  informal 
truce,  Marbeuf,  the  French  commander,  commenced  hos- 
tilities against  the  patriots.^  In  vain  did  Rousseau  and 
many  other  champions  of  popular  liberty  protest  against 
this  bartering  away  of  insular  freedom :  in  vain  did  Paoli 
rouse  his  compatriots  to  another  and  more  unequal  struggle, 
and  seek  to  hold  the  mountainous  interior.  Poor,  badly 
equipped,  rent  by  family  feuds  and  clan  schisms,  his  fol- 
lowers  were  no  match  for  the  French  troops;  and  after 
the  utter  break-up  of  his  forces  Paoli  fled  to  England, 
taking  with  him  three  hundred  and  forty  of  the  most 
determined  patriots.  With  these  irreconcilables  Charles 
Buonaparte  did  not  cast  in  his  lot,  but  accepted  the  par- 
don offered  to  those  who  should  recognize  the  French 
sway.  With  his  wife  and  their  little  child  Joseph  he 
returned  to  Ajaccio  ;  and  there,  shortly  afterwards,  Napo- 
leon was  born.  As  the  patriotic  historian,  Jacobi,  has 
finely  said,  "The  Corsican  people,  when  exhausted  by 
producing  martyrs  to  the  cause  of  liberty,  produced 
Napoleon  Buonaparte."* 

1  See  Jacobi,  **  Hist,  de  la  Cone/^  vol.  ii.,  ch.  viii.  The  whole  story 
is  told  with  prudent  brevity  by  French  historians,  even  by  Masson  and 
Chnquet.  The  few  words  in  which  Thiers  dismisses  this  subject  are 
altogether  misleading. 

^  Much  has  been  written  to  prove  that  Napoleon  was  bom  in  1708,  and 
was  really  the  eldest  surviving  son.  The  reasons,  stated  briefly,  are: 
(I)  that  the  first  baptismal  name  of  Joseph  Buonaparte  was  merely 
Nabulione  (Italian  for  Napoleon),  and  that  Joseph  was  a  later  addition 


8  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Seeing  that  Charles  Buonaparte  had  been  an  ardent 
adherent  of  Paoli,  his  sudden  change  of  front  has  exposed 
him  to  keen  censure.  He  certainly  had  not  the  grit  of 
which  heroes  are  made.  His  seems  to  have  been  an  ill- 
balanced  nature,  soon  buoyed  up  by  enthusiasms,  and  as 
speedily  depressed  by  their  evaporation;  endowed  with 
enough  of  learning  and  culture  to  be  a  Voltairean  and 
write  second-rate  verses ;  and  with  a  talent  for  intrigue 
which  sufiBced  to  embarrass  his  never  very  affluent  for- 
tunes. Napoleon  certainly  derived  no  world-compelling 
qualities  from  his  father :  for  these  he  was  indebted  to 
the  wilder  strain  which  ran  in  his  mother's  blood.  The 
father  doubtless  saw  in  the  French  connection  a  chance 
of  worldly  advancement  and  of  liberation  from  pecuniary 
difficulties ;  for  the  new  rulers  now  sought  to  gain  over 
the  patrician  families  of  the  island.  Many  of  them  had 
resented  the  dictatorship  of  Paoli ;  and  they  now  gladly 
accepted  the  connection  with  France,  which  promised  to 
enrich  their  country  and  to  open  up  a  brilliant  career  in 
the  French  army,  where  commissions  were  limited  to  the 
scions  of  nobility. 

Much  may  be  said  in  excuse  of  Charles  Buonaparte's 
decision,  and  no  one  can  deny  that  Corsica  has  ultimately 
gained  much  by  her  connection  with  France.  But  his 
change  of  front  was  open  to  the  charge  that  it  was 
prompted  by  self-interest  rather  than  by  philosophic 
foresight.  At  any  rate,  his  second  son  throughout  his 
boyhood  nursed  a  deep  resentment  against  his  father  for 
his  desertion  of  the  patriots'  cause.  The  youth's  sym- 
pathies were  with  the  peasants,  whose  allegiance  was  not 
to  be  bought  by  baubles,  whose  constancy  and  bravery 
long  held  out  against  the  French  in  a  hopeless  guerilla 
warfare.  His  hot  Corsican  blood  boiled  at  the  stories  of 
oppression  and  insult  which  he  heard  from  his  humbler 

to  his  name  on  the  baptismal  register  of  January  7th,  1768,  at  Corte ; 
(2)  certain  statements  that  Joseph  was  born  at  Ajaocio ;  (3)  Napoleon^s 
own  statement  at  his  marriage  that  he  was  born  in  1768.  To  this  it  may 
be  replied  that :  (a)  other  letters  and  statements,  still  more  decisive,  prove 
that  Joseph  was  born  at  Corte  in  1768  and  Napoleon  at  Ajaccio  in  1769; 
(6)  Napoleon^s  entry  in  the  marriage  register  was  obviously  designed  to 
lessen  the  disparity  of  years  of  his  bride,  who,  on  her  side,  subtractwl 
four  years  from  her  age.    See  Chuquet,  *  '•  La  Jeunesse  de  Napoleon ,  ^  *  p.  05. 


I  PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  YEARS  9 

compatriots.  When,  at  eleven  years  of  age,  he  saw  in 
the  military  college  at  Brienne  the  portrait  of  Choiseul, 
the  French  Minister  who  had  urged  on  the  conquest  of 
Corsica,  his  passion  burst  forth  in  a  torrent  of  impreca- 
tions against  the  traitor ;  and,  even  after  the  death  of  his 
father  in  1785,  he  exclaimed  that  he  could  never  forgive 
him  for  not  following  Paoli  into  exile. 

What  trifles  seem,  at  times,  to  alter  the  current  of 
human  affairs!  Had  his  father  acted  thus,  the  young 
Napoleon  would  in  all  probability  have  entered  the  mili- 
tary or  naval  service  of  Great  Britain ;  he  might  have 
shared  Paoli's  enthusiasm  for  the  land  of  his  adoption, 
and  have  followed  the  Corsican  hero  in  his  enterprises 
against  the  French  Revolution,  thenceforth  figuring  in 
history  merely  as  a  greater  Marlborough,  crushing  the 
military  efforts  of  democratic  France,  and  luring  England 
into  a  career  of  Continental  conquest.  Monarchy  and 
aristocracy  would  have  gone  unchallenged,  except  within 
the  "  natural  limits "  of  France ;  and  the  other  nations, 
never  shaken  to  their  inmost  depths,  would  have  dragged 
on  their  old  inert  fragmentary  existence. 

The  decision  of  Charles  Buonaparte  altered  the  destiny 
of  Europe.  He  determined  that  his  eldest  boy,  Joseph, 
should  enter  the  Church,  and  that  Napoleon  should  be 
a  soldier.  His  perception  of  the  characters  of  his  boys 
was  correct.  An  anecdote,  for  which  the  elder  brother 
is  responsible,  throws  a  flood  of  light  on  their  tempera- 
ments. The  master  of  their  school  arranged  a  mimic 
combat  for  his  pupils  —  Romans  against  Carthaginians. 
Joseph,  as  the  elder,  was  ranged  under  the  banner  of 
Rome,  while  Napoleon  was  told  off  among  the  Cartha- 
ginians ;  but,  piqued  at  being  chosen  for  the  losing  side, 
the  child  fretted,  begged,  and  stormed  until  the  less  bel- 
licose Joseph  agreed  to  change  places  with  his  exacting 
junior.  The  incident  is  prophetic  of  much  in  the  later 
history  of  the  family. 

Its  imperial  future  was  opened  up  by  the  deft  complai- 
sance now  shown  by  Charles  Buonaparte.  The  reward 
for  his  speedy  submission  to  France  was  soon  forthcom- 
ing. The  French  commander  in  Corsica  used  his  influ- 
ence to  secure  the  admission  of  the  young  Napoleon  to 


10  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

the  military  school  of  Brienne  in  Champagne ;  and  as  the 
father  was  able  to  satisfy  the  authorities  not  only  that  he 
was  without  fortune,  but  also  that  his  family  had  been 
noble  for  four  generations,  Napoleon  was  admitted  to  this 
school  to  be  educated  at  the  charges  of  the  King  of  France 
(April,  1779).  He  was  now,  at  the  tender  age  of  nine, 
a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  among  a  people  whom  he 
detested  as  the  oppressors  of  his  countrymen.  Worst  of 
all,  he  had  to  endure  the  taunt  of  belonging  to  a  subject 
race.  What  a  position  for  a  proud  and  exacting  child ! 
Little  wonder  that  the  official  report  represented  him  as 
silent  and  obstinate;  but,  strange  to  say,  it  added  the 
word  "imperious."  It  was  a  tough  character  which 
could  defy  repression  amidst  such  surroundings.  As  to 
his  studies,  little  need  be  said.  In  his  French  history 
he  read  of  the  glories  of  the  distant  past  (when  "Ger- 
many was  part  of  the  French  Empire  *'),  the  splendours 
of  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.,  the  disasters  of  France  in  the 
Seven  Years'  War,  and  the  "prodigious  conquests  of  the 
English  in  India."  But  his  imagination  was  kindled  from 
other  sources.  Boys  of  pronounced  character  have  always 
owed  far  more  to  their  private  reading  than  to  their  set 
studies ;  and  the  young  Buonaparte,  while  grudgingly 
learning  Latin  and  French  grammar,  was  feeding  his  mind 
on  Plutarch's  "Lives"  —  in  a  French  translation.  The 
artful  intermingling  of  the  actual  and  the  romantic,  the 
historic  and  the  personal,  in  those  vivid  sketches  of  ancient 
worthies  and  heroes,  has  endeared  them  to  many  minds. 
Rousseau  derived  unceasing  profit  from  their  perusal ;  and 
Madame  Roland  found  in  them  "the  pasture  of  great  souls." 
It  was  so  with  the  lonely  Corsican  youth.  Holding  aloof 
from  his  comrades  in  gloomy  isolation,  he  caught  in  the 
exploits  of  Greeks  and  Romans  a  distant  echo  of  the  tragic 
romance  of  his  beloved  island  home.  The  librarian  of  the 
school  asserted  that  even  then  the  young  soldier  had  mod- 
elled his  future  career  on  that  of  the  heroes  of  antiquity; 
and  we  may  well  believe  that,  in  reading  of  the  exploits  of 
Leonidas,  Curtius,  and  Cincinnatus,  he  saw  the  figure  of 
his  own  antique  republican  hero,  Paoli.  To  fight  side  by 
side  with  Paoli  against  the  French  was  his  constant  dream. 
"  Paoli  will  return,"  he  once  exclaimed,  "  and  as  soon  as  I 


I  PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  YEARS  11 

have  strength,  I  will  go  to  help  him:  and  perhaps  together 
we  shall  be  able  to  shake  the  odious  yoke  from  off  the 
neck  of  Corsica." 

But  there  was  another  work  which  exercised  a  great  in- 
fluence on  his  young  mind — the  "  Gallic  War  "  of  Caesar. 
To  the  young  Italian  the  conquest  of  Gaul  by  a  man  of  his 
own  race  must  have  been  a  congenial  topic,  and  in  Csesar 
himself  the  future  conqueror  may  dimly  have  recognized 
a  kindred  spirit.  The  masterful  energy  and  all-conquering 
will  of  the  old  Roman,  his  keen  insight  into  the  heart  of  a 
problem,  the  wide  sweep  of  his  mental  vision,  ranging  over 
the  intrigues  of  the  Roman  Senate,  the  shifting  politics  of 
a  score  of  tribes,  and  the  myriad  administrative  details 
of  a  great  army  and  a  mighty  province  —  these  were  the 
qualities  that  furnished  the  chief  mental  training  to  the 
young  cadet.  Indeed,  the  career  of  Caesar  was  destined  to 
exert  a  singular  fascination  over  the  Napoleonic  dynasty, 
not  only  on  its  founder,  but  also  on  Napoleon  III.;  and 
the  change  in  the  character  and  career  of  Napoleon  the 
Great  may  be  registered  mentally  in  the  effacement  of  the 
portraits  of  Leonidas  and  Paoli  by  tliose  of  Caesar  and 
Alexander.  Later  on,  during  his  sojourn  at  Ajaccio  in 
1790,  when  the  first  shadows  were  flitting  across  his  hith- 
"ft*felinclouded  love  for  Paoli,  we  hear  that  he  spent  whole 
nights  poring  over  Caesar's  history,  committing  many 
passages  to  memory  in  his  passionate  admiration  of  those 
wondrous  exploits.  Eagerly  he  took  Caesar's  side  as 
against  Pompey,  and  no  less  warmly  defended  him  from 
the  charge  of  plotting  against  the  liberties  of  the  common- 
wealth.^ It  was  a  perilous  study  for  a  republican  youth 
in  whom  the  military  instincts  were  as  ingrained  as  the 
genius  for  rule. 

Concerning  the  young  Buonaparte's  life  at  Brienne  there 
exist  few  authentic  records  and  many  questionable  anec- 
dotes. Of  these  last,  that  which  is  the  most  credible  and 
suggestive  relates  his  proposal  to  his  schoolfellows  to  con- 
struct ramparts  of  snow  during  the  sharp  winter  of  1783-4. 
According  to  his  schoolfellow,  Botirrienne,  these  mimic 
fortifications  were  planned  by  Buonaparte,  who  also 
directed  the  methods  of  attack  and  defence:  or,  as  others 

1  Nasica,  "  M^moires,'*  p.  192. 


12  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

say,  he  reconstructed  the  walls  according  to  the  needs  of 
modern  war.  In  either  case,  the  incident  bespeaks  for 
him  great  power  of  organization  and  control.  But  there 
were  in  general  few  outlets  for  his  originality  and  vigour. 
He  seems  to  have  disliked  all  his  comrades,  except  Bourri- 
enne,  as  much  as  they  detested  him  for  his  moody  humours 
and  fierce  outbreaks  of  temper.  He  is  even  reported  to 
have  vowed  that  he  would  do  as  much  harm  as  possible 
to  the  French  people ;  but  the  remark  smacks  of  the  story- 
book. Equally  doubtful  are  the  two  letters  in  which  he 
prays  to  be  removed  from  the  indignities  to  which  he  was 
subjected  at  Brienne.^  In  other  letters  which  are  un- 
doubtedly genuine,  he  refers  to  his  future  career  with 
ardour,  and  writes  not  a  word  as  to  the  bullying  to  which 
his  Corsican  zeal  subjected  him.  Particularly  noteworthy 
is  the  letter  to  his  uncle  begging  him  to  intervene  so  as 
to  prevent  Joseph  Buonaparte  from  taking  up  a  military 
career.  Joseph,  writes  the  younger  brother,  would  make 
a  good  garrison  ofiScer,  as  he  was  well  formed  and  clever 
at  frivolous  compliments  —  "  good  therefore  for  society, 

but  for  a  fight ?  " 

Napoleon's  determination  had  been  noticed  by  his 
teachers.  They  had  failed  to  bend  his  will,  at  least  on 
important  points.  In  lesser  details  his  Italian  adroit- 
ness seems  to  have  been  of  service ;  for  the  officer  who 
inspected  the  school  reported  of  him:  "Constitution, 
health  excellent:  character  submissive,  sweet,  honest, 
grateful :  conduct  very  regular  :  has  always  distinguished 
himself  by  his  application  to  mathematics :  knows  history 
and  geography  passably :  very  weak  in  accomplishments. 
He  will  be  an  excellent  seaman :  is  worthy  to  enter  the 
School  at  Paris."  To  the  military  school  at  Paris  he  was 
accordingly  sent  in  due  course,  entering  there  in  October, 
1784.  The  change  from  the  semi-monastic  life  at  Brienne 
to  the  splendid  edifice  which  fronts  the  Champ  de  Mars 
had  less  effect  than  might  have  been  expected  in  a  youth 
of  fifteen  years.     Not  yet  did  he  become  French  in  syna- 

i0 

1  Both  letters  are  accepted  as  authentic  by  Jung,  *'  Bonaparte  et  son 
Temps,"  vol.  i.,  pp.  84,  92;  but  Maason,  **  Napoleon  Inconnu,''  vol.  i., 
p.  56,  tracking  them  to  their  source,  discredits  them,  as  also  from  internal 
evidence. 


I  PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  YEARS  18 

patfay.  His  love  of  Corsica  and  hatred  of  the  French 
monarchy  steeled  him  against  the  luxuries  of  his  new 
surroundings.  Perhaps  it  was  an  added  sting  that  he  was 
educated  at  the  expense  of  the  monarchy  which  had  con- 
quered his  kith  and  kin.  He  nevertheless  applied  himself 
with  energy  to  his  favourite  studies,  especially  mathe- 
matics. Defective  in  languages  he  still  was,  and  ever 
remained ;  for  his  critical  acumen  in  literature  ever  fas- 
tened on  the  matter  rather  than  on  style.  To  the  end  of 
his  days  he  could  never  write  Italian,  much  less  French, 
with  accuracy ;  and  his  tutor  at  Paris  not  inaptly  described 
his  boyish  composition  as  resembling  molten  granite.  The 
same  qualities  of  directness  and  impetuosity  were  also  fatal 
to  his  efforts  at  mastering  the  movements  of  the  dance. 
In  spite  of  lessons  at  Paris  and  private  lessons  which  he 
afterwards  took  at  Valence,  he  was  never  a  dancer :  his 
bent  was  obviously  for  the  exact  sciences  rather  than  the 
arts,  for  the  geometrical  rather  than  the  rhythmical :  he 
thought,  as  he  moved,  in  straight  lines,  never  in  curves. 

The  death  of  his  father  during  the  year  which  the 
youth  spent  at  Paris  sharpened  his  sense  of  responsibility 
towards  his  seven  younger  brothers  and  sisters.  His 
own  poverty  must  have  inspired  him  with  disgust  at  the 
luxury  which  he  saw  around  him;  but  there  are  good 
reasons  for  doubting  the  genuineness  of  the  memorial 
which  he  is  alleged  to  have  sent  from  Paris  to  the  second 
master  at  Brienne  on  this  subject.  The  letters  of  the 
scholars  at  Paris  were  subject  to  strict  surveillance ;  and, 
if  he  had  taken  the  trouble  to  draw  up  a  list  of  criticisms 
on  his  present  training,  most  assuredly  it  would  have  been 
destroyed.  Undoubtedly,  however,  he  would  have  sym- 
pathized with  the  unknown  critic  in  his  complaint  of  the 
unsuitableness  of  sumptuous  meals  to  youths  who  were 
destined  for  the  hardships  of  the  camp.  At  Brienne  he 
had  been  dubbed  "  the  Spartan,"  an  instance  of  that  almost 
uncanny  faculty  of  schoolboys  to  dash  off  in  a  nickname 
the  salient  features  of  character.  The  phrase  was  correct, 
almost  for  Napoleon's  whole  life.  At  any  rate,  the  pomp 
of  Paris  served  but  to  root  his  youthful  affections  more 
tenaciously  in  the  rocks  of  Corsica. 

In  September,  1785,  that  is,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  Buona- 


14  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

parte  was  nominated  for  a  commission  as  junior  lieutenant 
in  La  Fere  regiment  of  artillery  quartered  at  Valence  on 
the  Rhone.  This  was  his  first  close  contact  with  real  life. 
The  rules  of  the  service  required  him  to  spend  three  months 
of  rigorous  drill  before  he  was  admitted  to  his  commission. 
The  work  was  exacting:  the  pay  was  small,  viz* 9  l^l^O 
francs,  or  less  than  £45,  a  year;  but  all  reports  agree  as  to 
his  keen  zest  for  his  profession  and  the  recognition  of  his 
transcendent  abilities  by  his  superior  officers.^  There  it 
was  that  he  mastered  the  rudiments  of  war,  for  lack  of 
which  many  generals  of  noble  birth  have  quickly  closed  in 
disaster  careers  that  began  with  promise  :  there,  too,  he 
learnt  that  hardest  and  best  of  all  lessons,  prompt  obedi- 
ence. '^  To  learn  obeying  is  the  fundamental  art  of  gov- 
erning," says  Carlyle.  It  was  so  with  Napoleon :  at  Valence 
he  served  his  apprenticeship  in  the  art  of  conquering  and 
the  art  of  governing. 

This  springtime  of  his  life  is  of  interest  and  importance 
in  many  ways:  it  reveals  many  amiable  qualities,  which 
had  hitherto  been  blighted  by  the  real  or  fancied  scorn  of 
the  wealthy  cadets.  At  Valence,  while  shrinking  from  his 
brother  officers,  he  sought  society  more  congenial  to  his 
simple  tastes  and  restrained  demeanour.  In  a  few  of  the 
best  bourgeois  families  of  Valence  he  found  happiness. 
There,  too,  blossomed  the  tenderest,  purest  idyll  of  his  life. 
At  the  country  house  of  a  cultured  lady  who  had  be- 
friended him  in  his  solitude,  he  saw  his  first  love,  Caroline 
de  Colombier.  It  was  a  passing  fancy;  but  to  her  all  the 
passion  of  his  southern  nature  welled  forth.  She  seems  to 
have  returned  his  love;  for  in  the  stormy  sunset  of  his  life 
at  St.  Helena  he  recalled  some  delicious  walks  at  dawn 
when  Caroline  and  he  had — eaten  cherries  together.  One 
lingers  fondly  over  these  scenes  of  his  otherwise  stern 
career,  for  they  reveal  his  capacity  for  social  joys  and  for 
deep  and  tender  afifection,  had  his  lot  been  otherwise  cast. 
How  different  might  have  been  his  life,  had  France  never 
conquered  Corsica,  and  had  the  Revolution  never  burst 
forth!  But  Corsica  was  still  his  dominant  passion.  When 
he  was  called  away  from  Valence  to  repress  a  riot  at  Lyons, 
his  feelings,  distracted  for  a  time  by  Caroline,  swerved 

^  Chaptskl,  **  Me8  Soavenirs  but  Napoltoo/'  p.  177. 


I  PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  YEARS  16 

back  towards  his  island  home ;  and  in  September,  1786,  he 
had  the  joy  of  revisiting  the  scenes  of  his  childhood. 
Warmly  though  he  greeted  his  mother,  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, after  an  absence  of  nearly  eight  years,  his  chief 
delight  was  in  the  rocky  shores,  the  verdant  dales  and 
mountain  heights  of  Corsica.  The  odour  of  the  forests, 
the  setting  of  the  sun  in  the  sea  '^  as  in  the  bosom  of  the 
infinite,"  the  quiet  proud  independence  of  the  mountain- 
eers themselves,  all  enchanted  him.  His  delight  reveals 
almost  Wertherian  powers  of  "sensibility."  Even  the 
family  troubles  could  not  damp  his  ardour.  His  father 
had  embarked  on  questionable  speculations,  which  now 
threatened  the  Buonapartes  with  bankruptcy,  unless  the 
French  Government  proved  to  be  complacent  and  generous. 
With  the  hope  of  pressing  one  of  the  family  claims  on  the 
royal  exchequer,  the  second  son  procured  an  extension  of 
furlough  and  sped  to  Paris.  There  at  the  close  of  1787  he 
spent  several  weeks,  hopefully  endeavouring  to  extract 
money  from  the  bankrupt  Government.  It  was  a  season 
of  disillusionment  in  more  senses  than  one  ;  for  there  he 
saw  for  himself  the  seamy  side  of  Parisian  life,  and  drifted 
for  a  brief  space  about  the  giddy  vortex  of  the  Palais 
Royale.  What  a  contrast  to  the  limpid  life  of  Corsica 
was  that  turbid  frothy  existence — already  swirling  towards 
its  mighty  plunge ! 

After  a  furlough  of  twenty-one  months  he  rejoined  his 
regiment,  now  at  Auxonne.  There  his  health  suffered 
considerably,  not  only  from  the  miasma  of  the  marshes  of 
the  river  Sadne,  but  also  from  family  anxieties  and  arduous 
literary  toils.  To  these  last  it  is  now  needful  to  refer. 
Indeed,  the  external  events  of  his  early  life  are  of  value 
only  as  they  reveal  the  many-sidedness  of  his  nature  and 
the  growth  of  his  mental  powers. 

How  came  he  to  outgrow  the  insular  patriotism  of  his 
early  years?  The  foregoing  recital  of  facts  must  have 
already  suggested  one  obvious  explanation.  Nature  had 
dowered  him  so  prodigally  with  diverse  gifts,  mainly  of  an 
imperious  order,  that  he  could  scarcely  have  limited  his 
sphere  of  action  to  Corsica.  Profoundly  as  he  loved  his 
island,  it  offered  no  sphere  commensurate  with  his  varied 
powers   and  masterful   will.      It  was  no  empty  vaunt 


Id  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

which  his  father  had  uttered  on  his  deathbed  that  his 
Napoleon  would  one  day  overthrow  the  old  monarchies 
and  conquer  Europe.^  Neither  did  the  great  commander 
himself  overstate  the  peculiarity  of  his  temperament,  when 
he  confessed  that  his  instincts  had  ever  prompted  him  that 
his  will  must  prevail,  and  that  what  pleased  him  must  of 
necessity  belong  to  him.  Most  spoilt  children  harbour 
the  same  illusion,  for  a  brief  space.  But  all  the  buffetings 
of  fortune  failed  to  drive  it  from  the  youn^  Buonaparte ; 
and  when  despair  as  to  his  future  might  nave  impaired 
the  vigour  of  his  domineering  instincts,  his  mind  and  will 
acquired  a  fresh  rigidity  by  coming  under  the  spell  of  that 
philosophizing  doctrinaire,  Rousseau. 

There  was  every  reason  why  he  should  early  be  attracted 
by  this  fantastic  thinker.  In  that  notable  work,  '^  Le  Con- 
trat  Social "  (1762),  Rousseau  called  attention  to  the  an- 
tique energy  shown  by  the  Corsicans  in  defence  of  their 
liberties,  and  in  a  startlingly  prophetic  phrase  he  exclaimed 
that  the  little  island  would  one  day  astonish  Europe.  The 
source  of  this  predilection  of  Rousseau  for  Corsica  is 
patent.  Born  and  reared  at  Geneva,  he  felt  a  Switzer's 
love  for  a  people  which  was  "  neither  rich  nor  poor  but 
self-sufficing " ;  and  in  the  simple  life  and  fierce  love  of 
liberty  of  the  hardy  islanders  he  saw  traces  of  that  social 
contract  which  he  postulated  as  the  basis  of  society.  Ac- 
cording to  him,  the  beginnings  of  all  social  and  political 
institutions  are  to  be  found  in  some  agreement  or  contract 
between  men.  Thus  arise  the  clan,  the  tribe,  the  nation. 
The  nation  may  delegate  many  of  its  powers  to  a  ruler ; 
but  if  he  abuse  such  powers,  the  contract  between  him  and 
his  people  is  at  an  end,  and  they  may  return  to  the  primi- 
tive state,  which  is  founded  on  an  agreement  of  equals 
with  equals.  Herein  lay  the  attractiveness  of  Rousseau 
for  all  who  were  discontented  with  their  surroundings. 
He  seemed  infallibly  to  demonstrate  the  absurdity  of 
tyranny  and  the  need  of  returning  to  the  primitive  bliss 
of  the  social  contract.  It  mattered  not  that  the  said  con- 
tract was  utterly  unhistorical  and  that  his  argument  teemed 
with  fallacies.    He  inspired  a  whole  generation  with  detes- 

^  Joseph  Buonaparte,  **  Menus., ^*  vol.  L,  p.  29.  So  too  Miot  de  Melito, 
'^Mema.,'*  vol.  i.,  ch.  x. 


I  PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  TEARS  17 

tation  of  the  present  and  with  longings  for  the  golden  age. 
Poets  had  sung  of  it,  but  Rousseau  seemed  to  bring  it 
within  the  grasp  of  long-suffering  mortals. 

The  first  extant  manuscript  of  Napoleon,  written  at 
Valence  in  April,  1786,  shows  that  he  sought  in  Rousseau's 
armoury  the  logical  weapons  for  demonstrating  the  ^' right" 
of  the  Corsicans  to  rebel  against  the  French.  The  young 
hero-worshipper  begins  by  noting  that  it  is  the  birthday 
of  Paoli.  He  plunges  into  a  panegyric  on  the  Corsican 
patriots,  when  he  is  arrested  by  the  thought  that  many 
censure  them  for  rebelling  at  all.  "  The  divine  laws  for- 
bid  revolt.  But  what  have  divine  laws  to  do  with  a  purely 
human  affair  ?  Just  think  of  the  absurdity  —  divine  laws 
universally  forbidding  the  casting  off  of  a  usurping  yoke ! 
...  As  for  human  laws,  there  cannot  be  any  aiter  the 
prince  violates  them."  He  then  postulates  two  origins 
for  government  as  alone  possible.  Either  the  people  has 
established  laws  and  submitted  itself  to  the  prince,  or  the 
prince  has  established  laws.  In  the  first  case,  the  prince 
is  engaged  by  the  very  nature  of  his  office  to  execute  the 
covenants.  In  the  second  case,  the  laws  tend,  or  do  not 
tend,  to  the  welfare  of  the  people,  which  is  the  aim  of  all 
government :  if  they  do  not,  the  contract  with  the  prince 
dissolves  of  itself,  for  the  people  then  enters  again  into  its 
primitive  state.  Having  thus  proved  the  sovereignty  of 
the  people,  Buonaparte  uses  his  doctrine  to  justify  Corsi- 
can revolt  aeainst  France,  and  thus  concludes  his  curious 
medley  :  "  The  Corsicans,  following  all  the  laws  of  justice, 
have  been  able  to  shake  off  the  yoke  of  the  Genoese,  and 
may  do  the  same  with  that  of  the  French.     Amen." 

Five  days  later  he  again  gives  the  reins  to  his  melan- 
choly. *'  Always  alone,  though  in  the  midst  of  men,"  he 
faces  the  thought  of  suicide.  With  an  innate  power  of 
summarizing  and  balancing  thoughts  and  sensations,  he 
draws  up  arguments  for  and  against  this  act.  He  is  in 
the  dawn  of  his  days  and  in  four  months'  time  he  will  see 
"  la  patrie,"  which  he  has  not  seen  since  childhood.  What 
joy  I  And  yet  —  how  men  have  fallen  away  from  nature : 
how  cringing  are  his  compatriots  to  their  conquerors: 
they  are  no  longer  the  enemies  of  tyrants,  of  luxury,  of 
vile  courtiers :  the  French  have  corrupted  their  morals. 


18  THE  LIFE  OF  NATOLEON  I  chap. 

and  when  "  la  patrie  "  no  longer  survives,  a  good  patriot 
ought  to  die.  Life  among  the  French  is  odious :  their 
modes  of  life  differ  from  his  as  much  as  the  light  of  the 
moon  differs  from  that  of  the  sun.  —  A  strange  effusion 
this  for  a  youth  of  seventeen  living  amidst  the  full  glories 
of  the  spring  in  Dauphine.  It  was  only  a  few  weeks 
before  the  ripening  of  cherries.  Did  that  cherry-idyll 
with  Mdlle.  de  Colombier  lure  him  back  to  life  ?  Or  did 
the  hope  of  striking  a  blow  for  Corsica  stay  his  suicidal 
hand?  Probably  the  latter;  for  we  find  him  shortly 
afterwards  tilting  against  a  Protestant  minister  of  Geneva 
who  had  ventured  to  criticise  one  of  the  dogmas  of  Rous- 
seau's evangel. 

The  Genevan  philosopher  had  asserted  that  Christianity, 
by  enthroning  in  the  hearts  of  Christians  the  idea  of  a 
Kingdom  not  of  this  world,  broke  the  unity  of  civil  society, 
because  it  detached  the  hearts  of  its  converts  from  the 
State,  as  from  all  earthly  things.  To  this  the  Genevan 
minister  had  successfully  replied  by  quoting  Christian 
teachings  on  the  subject  at  issue.  But  Buonaparte  fiercely 
accuses  the  pastor  of  neither  having  understood,  nor  even 
read,  "  Le  Contrat  Social "  :  he  hurls  at  his  opponent 
texts  of  Scripture  which  enjoin  obedience  to  the  laws :  he 
accuses  Christianity  of  rendering  men  slaves  to  an  anti- 
social tyranny,  because  its  priests  set  up  an  authority  in 
opposition  to  civil  laws ;  and  as  for  Protestantism,  it 
propagated  discords  between  its  followers,  and  thereby 
violated  civic  unity.  Christianity,  he  argues,  is  a  foe  to 
civil  government,  for  it  aims  at  making  men  happy  in  this 
lifft  by  JTiRpipngr  tTipn^  ^fh  hnpft  of  a  future  life  :   whilft 

the  aim  of  civil  government  is  "  to  lend  assistance  to  the 
feeble  against  the  strong,  and  by  this  means  to  allow 
everyone  to  enjoy  a  sweet  tranquillity,  the  road  of  happi- 
ness." He  therefore  concludes  that  Christianity  and  civil 
government  are  diametrically  opposed. 

In  this  tirade  we  see  the  youth's  spirit  of  revolt  flingfing 
him  not  only  against  French  law,  but  against  the  religion 
which  sanctions  it.  He  sees  none  of  the  beauty  of  the 
Gospels  which  Rousseau  had  admitted.  His  views  are 
more  rigid  than  those  of  his  teacher.  Scarcely  can  he 
conceive  of  two  influences,  the  spiritual  and  the  govern- 


I  PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  TEARS  19 

mental,  working  on  parallel  lines,  on  different  parts  of 
man's  nature.  His  conception  of  hi^irian  ann.mty  \r  f^^\^  ^f 
an  indivisible,  indistinguishable  whole,  wherein  material- 
isM,  tingea  now  and  again  oy  religious  sentiment  and 
personal  honour,  is  the  sole  noteworthy  influence.  Hg^ 
finds  no  worth  in  a  religion  which  seeks  to  work  from 
withinto  without,  which  aims  at  transforming  character, 
ana  tnus  transforming  the  world.  In  its  headlong  quest 
of  tangible  results  his  eager  spirit  scorns  so  tardy  a 
method  :  he  will  "  compel  men  to  be  happy,"  and  for  this 
result  there  is  but  one  practicable  means,  the  Social  Con- 
tract, the  State.  Everything  which  mars  the  unity  of  the 
Social  Contract  shall  be  shattered,  so  that  the  State  may 
have  a  clear  field  for  the  exercise  of  its  beneficent  despot- 
ism. Such  is  Buonaparte's  political  and  religious  creed  at 
the  age  of  seventeen,  and  such  it  remained  (with  many 
reservations  suggested  by  maturer  thought  and  self-in- 
terest) to  the  end  of  his  days.  It  reappears  in  his  policy 
anent  the  Concordat  of  1802,  by  which  religion  was  re-  * 
duced  to  the  level  of  handmaid  to  the  State,  as  also  in  his 
frequent  assertions  that  he  would  never  have  quite  the 
same  power  as  the  Czar  and  the  Sultan,  because  he  had 
not  undivided  sway  over  the  consciences  of  his  people.^ 
In  this  boyish  essay  we  may  perhaps  discern  the  funda- 
mental reason  of  his  later  failures.  He  never  completely 
understood  religion,  or  the  enthusiasm  which  it  can  evoke; 
neither  did  he  ever  fully  realize  the  complexity  of  human 
nature,  the  many-sidedness  of  social  life,  and  the  limita- 
tions that  beset  the  action  even  of  the  most  intelligent 
law-maker.* 

1  Chaptal,  **  Souvenirs  sur  Napoleon,"  p.  237.  See  too  MasaoL,  "  Na- 
polton  Inconnu,**  vol.  i.,  p.  158,  note. 

*In  an  after-dinner  conversation  on  January  lltb,  1803,  with  Roe- 
derer,  Buonaparte  exalted  Voltaire  at  the  expense  of  Rousseau  in  these 
significant  words :  *^The  more  I  read  Voltaire,  the  more  I  like  him:  he 
is  always  reasonable,  never  a  charlatan,  never  a  fanatic :  he  is  made  for 
mature  minds.  Up  to  sixteen  years  of  age  I  would  have  fought  for  Rous- 
seau against  all  the  friends  of  Voltaire.  Now  it  is  the  contrary.  I  have 
been  especially  disgusted  with  Bousseau  since  I  have  seen  the  East. 
Savage  man  is  a  dog.^^    ("  CEuvres  de  Roederer,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  461.) 

In  1804  he  even  denied  his  indebtedness  to  Rousseau.  During  a  family 
discussion,  wherein  he  also  belittled  Corsica,  he  called  Rousseau  **  a  bab- 
bler, or,  if  you  prefer  it,  an  eloquent  enough  idialogue.  I  never  liked 
him,  nor  indeed  well  understood  him  :  truly  I  had  not  the  courage  to  read 


:^ 


20  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

His  reading  of  Rousseau  haying  equipped  him  for  the 
study  of  human  society  and  government,  he  now,  dar- 
ing his  first  sojourn  at  Auxonne  (June,  1788-September, 
1789),  proceeds  to  ransack  the  records  of  the  ancient  and 
modern  world.  Despite  ill-health,  family  troubles,  and  the 
outbreak  of  the  French  Revolution,  he  grapples  with  this 
portentous  task.  The  history,  geography,  religion,  and 
social  customs  of  the  ancient  Persians,  Scythians,  Thra- 
cians,  Athenians,  Spartans,  Egyptians,  and  Carthaginians 
—  all  furnished  materials  for  his  encyclopaedic  note-books. 
Nothing  came  amiss  to  his  summarizing  genius.  Here  it 
was  that  he  gained  that  knowledge  of  the  past  which  was 
to  astonish  his  contemporaries.  Side  by  side  with  sugges- 
tions on  regimental  discipline  and  improvements  in  artil- 
lery, we  find  notes  on  the  opening  episodes  of  Plato's 
"  Republic,"  and  a  systematic  summary  of  English  history 
from  the  earliest  times  down  to  the  Revolution  of  1688. 
This  last  event  inspired  him  with  special  interest,  because 
the  Whigs  and  their  philosophic  champion,  Locke,  main* 
tained  that  James  II.  had  violated  the  original  contract 
between  prince  and  people.  Everywhere  in  his  notes 
Napoleon  emphasizes  the  incidents  which  led  to  conflicts 
between  dynasties  or  between  rival  principles.  In  fact, 
through  all  these  voracious  studies  there  appear  signs  of 
his  determination  to  write  a  history  of  Corsica;  and,  while 
inspiriting  his  kinsmen  by  recalling  the  glorious  past,  he 
sought  to  weaken  the  French  monarchy  by  inditing  a 
"  Dissertation  sur  TAutorite  Royale."     His  first  sketch  of 

this  work  runs  as  follows: 

"  23  October,  1788.    Auxonne. 

"  This  work  will  hemn  with  general  ideas  as  to  the  origin  and  the 
enhanced  prestige  of  the  name  of  king.    Military  rule  is  favourable  to 

him  all,  because  I  thought  him  for  the  most  part  tedious.*'    (Lucien 
Buonaparte,  "Mtooires,"  vol.  ii.,  ch.  xi.) 

His  later  views  on  Rousseau  are  strikingly  set  forth  by  Stanislas 
Girardin,  who,  in  his  ^*  Memoirs,''  relates  that  Buonaparte,  on  his  visit  to 
Uie  tomb  of  Rousseau,  said :  ^*  *  It  would  have  been  better  for  the  repose 
of  France  that  this  man  had  never  been  born.'  *  Why,  First  Consul  ? ' 
said  I.  *  He  prepared  the  French  Revolution.'  '  I  thought  it  was  not  for 
you  to  complain  of  the  Revolution.'  *  Well,'  he  replied,  *the  future  will 
show  whether  it  would  not  have  been  better  for  the  repose  of  the  world 
that  neither  I  nor  Rousseau  had  existed.' "  M^neval  confirms  this  re- 
markable statement. 


X  PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  YEARS  21 

« 

it:  this  work  will  afterwards  enter  into  the  details  of  the  usurped 
authority  enjoyed  by  the  Kings  of  the  twelve  Kingdoms  of  Europe. 
''There  are  very  few  Kings  who  have  not  deserved  dethronement."  ^ 

This  curt  pronouncement  is  all  that  remains  of  the  pro- 
jected work.  It  sufficiently  indicates,  however,  the  aim 
of  Napoleon's  studies.  One  and  all  they  were  designed 
to  equip  him  for  the  great  task  of  re-awakening  the  spirit 
of  the  Corsicans  and  of  sapping  the  base  of  the  French 
monarchy. 

But  these  reams  of  manuscript  notes  and  crude  literary 
efforts  have  an  even  wider  source  of  interest.  They  show 
how  narrow  was  his  outlook  on  life.  It  all  turned  on  the 
regeneration  of  Corsica  by  methods  which  he  himself  pre- 
scribed. We  are  therefore  able  to  understand  why,  when 
his  own  methods  of  salvation  for  Corsica  were  rejected,  he 
tore  himself  away  and  threw  his  undivided  energies  into 
the  Revolution. 

Yet  the  records  of  his  early  life  show  that  in  his  char- 
acter there  was  a  strain  of  true  sentiment  and  affection. 
In  him  Nature  carved  out  a  character  of  rock-like  firm- 
ness, but  she  adorned  it  with  flowers  of  human  sympathy 
and  tendrils  of  family  love.  At  his  first  parting  from  his 
brother  Joseph  at  Autun,  when  the  elder  brother  was 
weeping  passionately,  the  little  Napoleon  dropped  a  tear : 
but  that,  said  the  tutor,  meant  as  much  as  the  flood  of 
tears  from  Joseph.  Love  of  his  relatives  was  a  potent 
factor  of  his  policy  in  later  life ;  and  slander  has  never 
been  able  wholly  to  blacken  the  character  of  a  man  who 
loved  and  honoured  his  mother,  who  asserted  that  her  ad- 
vice had  often  been  of  the  highest  service  to  him,  and  that 
her  justice  and  firmness  of  spirit  marked  her  out  as  a 
natural  ruler  of  men.  But  when  these  admissions  are  freely 
granted,  it  still  remains  true  that  his  character  was  natu- 
rally hard;  that  his  sense  of  personal  superiority  made 
him,  even  as  a  child,  exacting  and  domineering ;  and  the 
sequel  was  to  show  that  even  the  strongest  passion  of  his 
youth,  his  determination  to  free  Corsica  from  France, 
could  be  abjured  if  occasion  demanded,  all  the  force  of  his 
nature  being  thenceforth  concentrated  on  vaster  adven- 
tures. 

1  llasson,  <<Napol^n  Inconnu/*  vol.  ii.,  p.  63. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  CORSICA 

"  They  seek  to  destroy  the  Revolution  by  attacking  my 
person :  I  will  defend  it,  for  I  am  the  Revolution."  Such 
were  the  words  uttered  by  Buonaparte  after  the  failure  of 
the  royalist  plot  of  1804.  They  are  a  daring  transcript 
of  Louis  XIV. 's  "L'etat,  c'est  moi."  That  was  a  bold 
claim,  even  for  an  age  attuned  to  the  whims  of  autocrats : 
but  this  of  the  young  Corsican  is  even  more  daring,  for  he 
thereby  equated  himself  with  a  movement  which  claimed 
to  be  wide  as  humanity  and  infinite  as  truth.  And  yet 
when  he  spoke  these  words,  they  were  not  scouted  as  pre- 
sumptuous folly :  to  most  Frenchmen  they  seemed  sober 
truth  and  practical  good  sense.  How  came  it,  one  asks  in 
wonder,  that  after  the  short  space  of  fifteen  years  a  world- 
wide movement  depended  on  a  single  life,  that  the  infini- 
tudes of  1789  lived  on  only  in  the  form,  and  by  the 
pleasure,  of  the  First  Consul  ?  Here  surely  is  a  political 
incarnation  unparalleled  in  the  whole  course  of  human 
history.  The  riddle  cannot  be  solved  by  history  alone. 
It  belongs  in  part  to  the  domain  of  psychology,  when  that 
science  shall  undertake  the  study,  not  merely  of  man  as  a 
unit,  but  of  the  aspirations,  moods,  and  whims  of  com- 
munities and  nations.  Meanwhile  it  will  be  our  far  hum- 
bler task  to  strive  to  point  out  the  relation  of  Buonaparte 
to  the  Revolution,  and  to  show  how  the  mighty  force  of 
his  will  dragged  it  to  earth. 

The  first  questions  that  confront  us  are  obviously  these. 
Were  the  lofty  aims  and  aspirations  of  the  Revolution 
attainable  ?  And,  if  so,  did  the  men  of  1789  follow  them 
by  practical  methods  ?  To  the  former  of  these  questions 
the  present  chapter  will,  in  part  at  least,  serve  as  an 
answer.  On  the  latter  part  of  the  problem  the  events 
described  in  later  chapters  will  throw  some  light :  in  them 

22 


CHAP.  II     THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  CORSICA  28 

we  shall  see  that  the  great  popular  upheaval  let  loose 
mighty  forces  that  bore  Buonaparte  on  to  fortune. 

Here  we  may  notice  that  the  Revolution  was  not  a  sim- 
ple and  therefore  solid  movement.  It  was  complex  and 
contained  the  seeds  of  discord  which  lurk  in  many-sided 
and  militant  creeds.  The  theories  of  its  intellectual  cham- 
pions were  as  diverse  as  the  motives  which  spurred  on  their 
followers  to  the  attack  on  the  outworn  abuses  of  the  age. 

Discontent  and  faith  were  the  ultimate  motive  powers 
of  the  Revolution.  Faith  prepared  the  Revolution  and 
discontent  accomplished  it.  Idealists  who,  in  varied 
planes  of  thought,  preached  the  doctrine  of  human  per- 
fectibility, succeeded  in  slowly  permeating  the  dull  toiling 
masses  of  France  with  hope.  Omitting  here  any  notice  of 
philosophic  speculation  as  such,  we  may  briefly  notice  the 
teachings  of  three  writers  whose  influence  on  revolution- 
ary politics  was  to  be  definite  and  practical.  These  were 
Montesquieu,  Voltaire,  and  Rousseau.  The  first  was  by 
no  means  a  revolutionist,  for  he  decided  in  favour  of  a 
mixed  form  of  government,  like  that  of  England,  which 
guaranteed  the  State  against  the  dangers  of  autocracy, 
oligarchy,  and  mob-rule.  Only  by  a  ricochet  did  he  assail 
the  French  monarchy.  But  ne  re-awakened  critical  in- 
quiry ;  and  any  inquiry  was  certain  to  sap  the  base  of  the 
anden  rSgime  in  France.  Montesquieu's  teaching  inspired 
the  group  of  moderate  reformers  who  in  1789  desired  to  re- 
fashion the  institutions  of  France  on  the  model  of  those  of 
England.  But  popular  sentiment  speedily  swept  past  these 
Anglophils  towards  the  more  attractive  aims  set  forth  by 
Voltaire. 

This  keen  thinker  subjected  the  privileged  classes,  es- 
pecially the  titled  clergy,  to  a  searching  fire  of  philosophic 
bombs  and  barbed  witticisms.  Never  was  there  a  more 
dazzling  succession  of  literary  triumphs  over  a  tottering 
system.  The  satirized  classes  winced  and  laughed,  and 
the  intellect  of  France  was  conquered,  for  the  Revolution. 
Thenceforth  it  was  impossible  that  peasants  who  were 
nominally  free  should  toil  to  satisfy  the  exacting  needs  of 
the  State,  and  to  support  the  brilliant  bevy  of  nobles  who 
flitted  gaily  round  the  monarch  at  Versailles.  The  young 
King  Louis  XVI.,  it  is  true,  carried  through  several  re- 


24  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  objlp. 

forms,  but  he  had  not  enough  strength  of  will  to  abolish 
the  absurd  immunities  from  taxation  which  freed  the 
nobles  and  titled  clergy  from  the  burdens  of  the  State. 
Thus,  down  to  1789,  the  middle  classes  and  peasants  bore 
nearly  all  the  weight  of  taxation,  while  the  peasants  were 
also  encumbered  by  feudal  dues  and  tolls.  These  were  the 
crying  grievances  which  united  in  a  solid  phalanx  both 
thinkers  and  practical  men,  and  thereby  gave  an  immense 
impetus  to  the  levelling  doctrines  of  Rousseau. 

Two  only  of  his  political  teachings  concern  us  here, 
namely,  social  equality  and  the  unquestioned  supremacy 
of  the  State ;  for  to  these  dogmas,  when  they  seemed 
doomed  to  political  bankruptcy.  Napoleon  Buonaparte  was 
to  act  as  residuary  legatee.  According  to  Rousseau, 
society  and  government  originated  in  a  social  contract, 
whereby  all  members  of  the  community  have  equal  rights. 
It  matters  not  that  the  spirit  of  the  contract  may  have 
evaporated  amidst  the  miasma  of  luxury.  That  is  a  viola> 
tion  of  civil  society  ;  and  members  are  justified  in  revert- 
ing at  once  to  the  primitive  ideal.  If  the  existence  of  the 
body  politic  be  endangered,  force  may  be  used  :  "  Who- 
ever refuses  to  obey  the  general  will  shall  be  constrained 
to  do  so  by  the  whole  body ;  which  means  nothing  else 
than  that  he  shall  be  forced  to  be  free."  Equally  plaus- 
ible and  dangerous  was  his  teaching  as  to  the  indivisibility 
of  the  general  will.  Deriving  every  public  power  from 
his  social  contract,  he  finds  it  easy  to  prove  that  the  sov- 
ereign power,  vested  in  all  the  citizens,  must  be  in- 
corruptible, inalienable,  unrepresentable,  indivisible,  and 
indestructible.  Englishmen  may  now  find  it  difiScult  to 
understand  the  enthusiasm  called  forth  by  this  quintes- 
sence of  negations ;  but  to  Frenchmen  recently  escaped 
from  the  age  of  privilege  and  warring  against  the  coali- 
tion of  kings,  the  cry  of  the  Republic  one  and  indivisible 
was  a  trumpet  call  to  death  or  victory.  Any  shifts,  even 
that  of  a  dictatorship,  were  to  be  borne,  provided  that 
social  equality  could  be  saved.  As  republican  Rome  had 
saved  her  early  liberties  by  intrusting  unlimited  powers 
to  a  temporary  dictator,  so,  claimed  Rousseau,  a  young 
commonwealth  must  by  a  similar  device  consult  Nature's 
first  law  of  self-preservation.     The  dictator  saves  liberty 


n  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  CORSICA  26 

by  temporarily  abrogating  it :  by  momentary  gagging  of 
the  legislative  power  he  renders  it  truly  vocal. 

The  events  of  the  French  Revolution  form  a  tragic 
commentary  on  these  theories.  In  the  first  stage  of  that 
great  movement  we  see  the  followers  of  Montesquieu, 
Voltaire,  and  Rousseau  marching  in  an  undivided  host 
against  the  ramparts  of  privilege.  The  walls  of  the  Bas- 
tille fall  down  even  at  the  blast  of  their  trumpets.  Odi- 
ous feudal  privileges  disappear  in  a  single  sitting  of  the 
National  Assembly  ;  and  the  Parlements^  or  supreme  law 
courts  of  the  provinces,  are  swept  away.  The  old  prov- 
inces themselves  are  abolished,  and  at  the  beginning  of 
1790  France  gains  social  and  political  unity  by  her  new 
system  of  Departments,  which  grants  full  freedom  of 
action  in  local  affairs,  though  in  all  national  concerns 
it  binds  France  closely  to  the  new  popular  government 
at  Paris.  But  discords  soon  begin  to  divide  the  re- 
formers :  hatred  of  clerical  privilege  and  the  desire  to 
fill  the  empty  coffers  of  the  State  dictate  the  first  acts 
of  spoliation.  Tithes  are  abolished  :  the  lands  of  the 
Church  are  confiscated  to  the  service  of  the  State ;  mo- 
nastic orders  are  suppressed ;  and  the  Government  un- 
dertakes to  pay  the  stipends  of  bishops  and  priests. 
Furthermore,  their  subjection  to  the  State  is  definitely 
secured  by  the  Civil  Constitution  of  the  Clergy  (July, 
1790),  which  invalidates  their  allegiance  to  the  Pope. 
Most  of  the  clergy  refuse  :  these  are  termed  non-jurors 
or  orthodox  priests,  while  their  more  complaisant  col- 
leagues are  known  as  constitutional  priests.  Hence  arises 
a  serious  schism  in  the  Church,  which  distracts  the  reli- 
gious life  of  the  land,  and  separates  the  friends  of  liberty 
from  the  champions  of  the  rigorous  equality  preached  by 
Rousseau. 

The  new  constitution  of  1791  was  also  a  source  of 
discord.  In  its  jealousy  of  the  royal  authority,  the 
National  Assembly  seized  very  many  of  the  executive 
functions  of  government.  The  results  were  disastrous. 
Laws  remained  without  force,  taxes  went  uncollected, 
the  army  was  distracted  by  mutinies,  and  the  monarchy 
sank  slowly  into  the  gulf  of  bankruptcy  and  anarchy- 
Thus,  in   the  course  of  three  years,  the  revolutionists 


26  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  orap. 

goaded  the  clergy  to  desperation,  they  were  about  to 
overthrow  the  monarchy,  every  month  was  proving  their 
local  self-government  to  be  unworkable,  and  they  them- 
selves split  into  factions  that  plunged  France  into  war 
and  drenched  her  soil  by  organized  massacres. 

We  know  very  little  about  the  impression  made  on  the 
young  Buonaparte  by  the  first  events  of  the  Revolution. 
His  note-book  seems  even  to  show  that  he  regarded  them 
as  an  inconvenient  interference  with  his  plans  for  Corsica. 
But  gradually  the  Revolution  excites  his  interest.  In 
September,  1789,  we  find  him  on  furlough  in  Corsica 
sharing  the  hopes  of  the  islanders  that  their  representa- 
tives in  the  French  National  Assembly  will  obtain  the 
boon  of  independence.  He  exhorts  his  compatriots  to 
favour  the  democratic  cause,  which  promises  a  speedy 
deliverance  from  official  abuses.  He  urges  them  to  don 
the  new  tricolour  cockade,  symbol  of  Parisian  triumph 
over  the  old  monarchy  ;  to  form  a  club  ;  above  all,  to 
organize  a  National  Guard.  The  young  officer  knew  that 
military  power  was  passing  from  the  royal  army,  now 
honeycombed  with  discontent,  to  the  National  Guard. 
Here  surely  was  Corsica's  means  of  salvation.  But  the 
French  governor  of  Corsica  intervenes.  The  club  is 
closed,  and  the  National  Guard  is  dispersed.  Thereupon 
Buonaparte  launches  a  vigorous  protest  against  the  tyr- 
anny of  the  governor  and  appeals  to  the  National  Assem- 
bly of  France  for  some  guarantee  of  civil  liberty.  His 
name  is  at  the  head  of  this  petition,  a  sufficiently  daring 
step  for  a  junior  lieutenant  on  furlough.  But  his  patri- 
otism and  audacity  carry  him  still  further.  He  journeys 
to  Bastia,  the  official  capital  of  his  island,  and  is  concerned 
in  an  affray  between  the  populace  and  the  royal  troops  (No- 
vember 6th,  1789).  The  French  authorities,  fortunately 
for  him,  are  nearly  powerless  :  he  is  merely  requested  to 
return  to  Ajaccio ;  and  there  he  organizes  anew  the  civic 
force,  and  sets  the  dissident  islanders  an  example  of  good 
discipline  by  mounting  guard  outside  the  house  of  a  per- 
sonal opponent. 

Other  events  now  transpired  which  began  to  assuage  his 
opposition  to  France.     Thanks  to  the  eloquent  efforts  of 


II  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  CORSICA  27 

Mirabeau,  the  Corsican  patriots  who  had  remained  in  exile 
since  1768  were  allowed  to  return  and  enjoy  the  full  rights 
of  citizenship.  Little  could  the  friends  of  liberty  at  Paris, 
or  even  the  statesman  himself,  have  foreseen  all  the  conse- 
quences of  this  action :  it  softened  the  feelings  of  many 
Corsicans  towards  their  conquerors ;  above  all,  it  caused 
the  heart  of  Napoleon  Buonaparte  for  the  first  time  to 
throb  in  accord  with  that  of  the  French  nation.  His 
feelings  towards  Paoli  also  began  to  cool.  The  conduct  of 
this  iUustrious  exile  exposed  him  to  the  charge  of  ingrati- 
tude towards  France.  The  decree  of  the  French  National 
Assembly,  which  restored  him  to  Corsican  citizenship,  was 
graced  by  acts  of  courtesy  such  as  the  generous  French 
nature  can  so  winningly  dispense.  Louis  XVI.  and  the 
National  Assembly  warmly  greeted  him,  and  recognized 
him  as  head  of  the  National  Guard  of  the  island.  Yet, 
amidst  all  the  congratulations,  Paoli  saw  the  approach  of 
anarchy,  and  behaved  with  some  reserve.  Outwardly, 
however,  concord  seemed  to  be  assured,  when  on  July 
14th,  1790,  he  landed  in  Corsica;  but  the  hatred  long 
nursed  by  the  mountaineers  and  fisherfolk  against  France 
was  not  to  be  exorcised  by  a  few  demonstrations.  In  truth, 
the  island  was  deeply  agitated.  The  priests  were  rousing 
the  people  against  the  newly  decreed  Civil  Constitution 
of  the  Clergy ;  and  one  of  these  disturbances  endangered 
the  life  of  Napoleon  himself.  He  and  his  brother  Joseph 
chanced  to  pass  by  when  one  of  the  processions  of  priests 
and  devotees  was  exciting  the  pity  and  indignation  of  the 
townsfolk.  The  two  brothers,  who  were  now  well  known 
as  partisans  of  the  Revolution,  were  threatened  with  vio- 
lence, and  were  saved  only  by  their  own  firm  demeanour 
and  the  intervention  of  peacemakers. 

Then  again,  the  concession  of  local  self-government  to 
the  island,  as  one  of  the  Departments  of  France,  revealed 
unexpected  difficulties.  Bastia  and  Ajaccio  struggled 
hard  for  the  honour  of  being  the  official  capital.  Paoli 
favoured  the  claims  of  Bastia,  thereby  annoying  the 
champions  of  Ajaccio,  among  whom  the  Buonapartes  were 
prominent.  The  schism  was  widened  by  the  dictatorial 
tone  of  Paoli,  a  demeanour  which  ill  became  the  chief  of 
a  civic  force.     In  fact,  it  soon  became  apparent  that  Cor- 


28  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

sica  was  too  small  a  sphere  for  natures  so  able  and  master- 
ful as  those  of  Paoli  and  Napoleon  Buonaparte. 

The  first  meeting  of  these  two  men  must  have  been  a 
scene  of  deep  interest.  It  was  on  the  fatal  field  of  Ponte 
Nuovo.  Napoleon  doubtless  came  there  in  the  spirit  of 
true  hero-worship.  But  hero-worship  which  can  stand 
the  strain  of  actual  converse  is  rare  indeed,  especially 
when  the  expectant  devotee  is  endowed  with  keen  insight 
and  habits  of  trenchant  expression.  One  phrase  Cas  come 
down  to  us  as  a  result  of  the  interview;  but  this  phrase 
contains  a  volume  of  meaning.  After  Paoli  had  explained 
the  disposition  of  his  troops  against  the  French  at  Ponte 
Nuovo,  Buonaparte  drily  remarked  to  his  brother  Joseph, 
"The  result  of  these  dispositions  was  what  was  inevit- 
able." ^ 

For  the  present,  Buonaparte  and  other  Corsican  demo- 
crats were  closely  concerned  with  the  delinquencies  of  the 
Comte  de  Buttaf uoco,  the  deputy  for  the  twelve  nobles  of 
the  island  to  the  National  Assembly  of  France.  In  a  letter 
written  on  January  23rd,  1791,  Buonaparte  overwhelms 
this  man  with  a  torrent  of  invective. — He  it  was  who  had 
betrayed  his  country  to  France  in  1768.  Self-interest  and 
that  alone  prompted  his  action  then,  and  always.  French 
rule  was  a  cloak  for  his  design  of  subjecting  Corsica  to 
"  the  absurd  feudal  rSgime  "  of  the  barons.  In  his  selfish 
royalism  he  had  protested  against  the  new  French  consti- 
tution as  being  unsuited  to  Corsica,  "  though  it  was  exactly 
the  same  as  that  which  brought  us  so  much  good  and  was 
wrested  from  us  only  amidst  streams  of  blood." — The  letter 
is  remarkable  for  the  southern  intensity  of  its  passion,  and 
for  a  certain  hardening  of  tone  towards  Paoli.  Buona- 
parte writes  of  Paoli  as  having  been  ever  "  surrounded  by 
enthusiasts,  and  as  failing  to  understand  in  a  man  any 
other  passion  than  fanaticism  for  liberty  and  indepen- 
dence," and  as  duped  by  Buttafuoco  in  1768.^    The  phrase 

1  Joseph  Buonaifttrte,  "  Mdmoires,"  vol.  i.,  p.  44. 

*  M.  Chuquet,  in  his  work  "La  Jeunesse  de  NapoWon"  (Paris,  1898), 
gives  a  different  opinion  :  but  I  think  this  passage  shows  a  veiled  hostility 
to  Paoli.  Probably  we  may  refer  to  this  time  an  incident  stated  by  Na- 
poleon at  St.  Helena  to  Lady  Malcolm  (**  Diary,"  p.  88),  namely,  that 
Paoli  urged  on  him  the  acceptance  of  a  commission  in  the  British  army : 
**  But  I  preferred  the  French,  because  I  spoke  the  language,  was  of  their 


n  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  CORSICA  29 

has  an  obvious  reference  to  the  Paoli  of  1791,  surrounded 
by  men  who  had  shared  his  long  exile  and  regarded  the 
English  constitution  as  their  model.  Buonaparte,  on  the 
contrary,  is  the  accredited  champion  of  French  democracy, 
his  furious  epistle  being  printed  by  the  Jacobin  Club  of 
Ajaccio. 

After  firing  off  this  tirade  Buonaparte  retiu*ned  to  his 
regiment  at  Auxonne  (February,  1791).  It  was  high 
time;  for  his  furlough,  though  prolonged  on  the  plea  of 
ill-health,  had  expired  in  the  preceding  October,  and  he 
was  therefore  liable  to  six  months'  imprisonment.  But  the 
young  officer  rightly  gauged  the  weakness  of  the  moribund 
monarchy;  and  the  officers  of  his  almost  mutinous  regi- 
ment were  glad  to  get  him  back  on  any  terms.  Every- 
where in  his  journey  through  Provence  and  Dauphine, 
Buonaparte  saw  the  triumph  of  revolutionary  principles. 
He  notes  that  the  peasants  are  to  a  man  for  the  Revolu- 
tion ;  so  are  the  rank  and  file  of  the  regiment.  The  officers 
are  aristocrats,  along  with  three-fourths  of  those  who 
belong  to  "good  society":  so  are  all  the  women,  for 
"Liberty  is  fairer  than  they,  and  eclipses  them."  The 
Revolution  was  evidently  gaining  completer  hold  over  his 
mmd  and  was  somewhat  blurring  his  insular  sentiments, 
when  a  rebuff  from  Paoli  further  weakened  his  ties  to 
Corsica.  Buonaparte  had  dedicated  to  him  his  work  on 
Corsica,  and  had  sent  him  the  manuscript  for  his  approval. 
After  keeping  it  an  unconscionable  time,  the  old  man  now 
coldly  replied  that  he  did  not  desire  the  honour  of  Buona- 
parte's panegyric,  though  he  thanked  him  heartily  for  it; 
that  the  consciousness  of  having  done  his  duty  sufficed  for 
him  in  his  old  age;  and,  for  the  rest,  history  should  not  be 
written  in  youth.  A  further  request  from  Joseph  Buona- 
parte for  the  return  of  the  slighted  manuscript  brought  the 
answer  that  he,  Paoli,  had  no  time  to  search  his  papers. 
After  this,  how  could  hero-worship  subsist  ? 

religion,  imderstood  and  liked  their  manners,  and  I  thought  the  Revolu- 
tion a  fine  time  for  an  enterprising  young  man.  Paoli  was  angry  —  we  did 
not  speak  afterwards.'*    It  is  hard  to  reconcile  all  these  statements. 

Luolen  Buonaparte  states, that  his  brother  seriously  thought  for  a  time 
of  taking  a  commission  in  the  forces  of  the  British  East  India  Company ; 
hut  I  am  assured  by  our  officials  that  no  record  of  any  application  now 
eziflts. 


30  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ch^p. 


•  • 


The  four  months  spent  by  Buonaparte  at  Auxonne  were, 
indeed,  a  time  of  disappointment  and  hardship.  Out  of 
his  slender  funds  he  paid  for  the  education  of  his  younger 
brother,  Louis,  who  shared  his  otherwise  desolate  lodging. 
A  room  almost  bare  but  for  a  curtainless  bed,  a  table 
heaped  with  books  and  papers,  and  two  chairs —  such  were 
the  surroundings  of  the  lieutenant  in  the  spring  of  1791. 
He  lived  on  bread  that  he  might  rear  his  brother  for  the 
army,  and  that  he  might  buy  books,  overjoyed  when  his 
savings  mounted  to  the  price  of  some  coveted  volume. 

Perhaps  the  depressing  conditions  of  his  life  at  Aux- 
onne may  account  for  the  acrid  tone  of  an  essay  which  he 
there  wrote  in  competition  for  a  prize  o£Fered  by  the 
Academy  of  Lyons  on  the  subject  —  "What  truths  and 
sentiments  ought  to  be  inculcated  to  men  for  their  happi- 
ness." It  was  unsuccessful;  and  modem  readers  will 
agree  with  the  verdict  of  one  of  the  judges  that  it  was 
incongruous  in  arrangement  and  of  a  bad  and  ragged 
style.  The  thoughts  are  set  forth  in  jerky,  vehement 
clauses ;  and,  in  place  of  the  sermbilitS  of  some  of  his 
earlier  effusions,  we  feel  here  the  icy  breath  of  material- 
ism. He  regards  an  ideal  human  society  as  a  geometrical 
structure  based  on  certain  well-defined  postulates.  All 
men  ought  to  be  able  to  satisfy  certain  elementary  needs 
of  their  nature  ;  but  all  that  is  beyond  is  questionable  or 
harmful.  The  ideal  legislator  will  curtail  wealth  so  as  to 
restore  the  wealthy  to  their  true  nature  —  and  so  forth. 
Of  any  generous  outlook  on  the  wider  possibilities  of 
human  life  there  is  scarcely  a  trace.'  His  essay  is  the 
apotheosis  of  social  mediocrity.  By  Procrustean  methods 
he  would  have  forced  mankind  back  to  the  dull  levels  of 
Sparta :  the  opalescent  glow  of  Athenian  life  was  beyond 
his  ken.  But  perhaps  the  most  curious  passage  is  that  in 
which  he  preaches  against  the  sin  and  folly  of  ambition. 
He  pictures  Ambition  as  a  figure  with  pallid  cheeks,  wild 
eyes,  hasty  step,  jerky  movements  and  sardonic  smile,  for 
whom  crimes  are  a  sport,  while  lies  and  calumnies  are 
merely  arguments  and  figures  of  speech.  Then,  in  words 
that  recall  Juvenal's  satire  on  Hannibars  career,  he  con- 
tinues :  "  What  is  Alexander  doing  when  he  rushes  from 
Thebes  into  Persia  and  thence  into  India?     He  is  ever 


II  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  CORSICA  31 

restless,  he  loses  his  wits,  he  believes  himself  God.  What 
is  the  end  of  Cromwell?  He  governs  England.  But  is 
he  not  tormented  by  aU  the  daggers  of  the  furies?"  —  The 
words  ring  false,  even  for  this  period  of  Buonaparte's 
life;  and  one  can  readily  understand  his  keen  wish  in 
later  years  to  burn  every  copy  of  these  youthful  essays. 
But  they  have  nearly  aU  survived;  and  the  diatribe 
against  ambition  itself  supplies  the  feather  wherewith 
history  may  wing  her  shaft  at  the  towering  flight  of  the 
imperial  eagle.^ 

At  midsummer  he  is  transferred,  as  first  lieutenant,  to 
another  regiment  which  happened  to  be  quartered  at 
Valence  ;  but  his  second  sojourn  there  is  remarkable  only 
for  signs  of  increasing  devotion  to  the  revolutionary 
cause.  In  the  autumn  of  .1791  he  is  again  in  Corsica  on 
furlough,  and  remains  there  until  the  month  of  May  fol- 
lowing. He  finds  the  island  rent  by  strifes  which  it  would 
be  tedious  to  describe.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  breach 
between  Paoli  and  the  Buonapartes  gradually  widened 
owing  to  the  dictator's  suspicion  of  all  who  favoured  the 
French  Revolution.  The  young  officer  certainly  did  noth- 
ing to  close  the  breach.  Determined  to  secure  his  own 
election  as  lieutenant-colonel  in  the  new  Corsican  National 
Guard,  he  spent  much  time  in  gaining  recruits  who  would 
vote  for  him.  He  further  assured  his  success  by  having 
one  of  the  commissioners,  who  was  acting  in  Paoli's  inter- 
est, carried  off  from  his  friends  and  detained  at  the  Buona- 
partes' house  in  Ajaccio  —  his  first  coup.^  Stranger  events 
were  to  follow.  At  Easter,  when  the  people  were  excited 
by  the  persecuting  edicts  against  the  clergy  and  the  clos- 
ing of  a  monastery,  there  was  sharp  fighting  between  the 

1  The  whole  essay  is  evidently  influenced  by  the  works  of  the  democrat 
Baynal,  to  whom  Buonaparte  dedicated  his  *'  Lettres  sur  la  Corse."  To 
the  "  Discours  de  Lyons  "  he  prefixed  as  motto  the  words,  *^  Morality  will 
exist  when  goTemments  are  free/'  which  he  modelled  on  a  similar  phrase 
of  Raynal.  The  following  sentences  are  also  noteworthy :  '*  Notre  organi- 
sation animale  a  des  besoins  indispensables :  manger,  dormir,  engendrer. 
Une  nourriture,  une  cabane,  des  vStements,  une  femme,  sont  done  une 
Btricte  n^essit^  pour  le  bonbeur.  Notre  organisation  intellectuelle  a  des 
vpp€tita  non  moins  imp<$rieux  et  dont  la  satisfaction  est  beaucoup  plus 
pr^euse.  C'est  dans  leur  entier  d^yeloppement  que  consiste  vralment 
le  bonbeur.     Sentir  et  raisonner,  yoil&  proprement  le  fait  de  Thomme." 

<  Nasica  ;  Chuquet,  p.  248. 


32  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

populace  and  Buonaparte*s  companies  of  National  Guards. 
Originating  in  a  petty  quarrel^  which  was  taken  up  by 
eager  partisans,  it  embroiled  the  whole  of  the  town  and 
gave  the  ardent  young  Jacobin  the  chance  of  overthrow- 
ing his  enemies.  His  plans  even  extended  to  the  seizure 
of  the  citadel,  where  he  tried  to  seduce  the  French  regi- 
ment from  its  duty  to  officers  whom  he  dubbed  aristocrats. 
The  attempt  was  a  failure.  The  whole  truth  can,  per- 
haps, scarcely  be  discerned  amidst  the  tissue  of  lies  which 
speedily  enveloped  the  aiBfair ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  on  the  second  day  of  strife  Buonaparte's  National 
Guards  began  the  fight  and  subsequently  menaced  the 
regular  troops  in  the  citadel.  The  conflict  was  finally 
stopped  by  commissioners  sent  by  Paoli ;  and  the  volun- 
teers were  sent  away  from  the  town. 

Buonaparte's  position  now  seemed  desperate.  His 
conduct  exposed  him  to  the  hatred  of  most  of  his  fellow- 
citizens  and  to  the  rebukes  of  the  French  War  Depart- 
ment. In  fact,  he  had  doubly  sinned:  he  had  actually 
exceeded  his  furlough  by  four  months :  he  was  technically 
guilty,  first  of  desertion,  and  secondly  of  treason.  In 
ordinary  times  he  would  have  been  shot,  but  the  times 
were  extraordinary,  and  he  rightly  judged  that  when  a 
Continental  war  was  brewing,  9ie  most  daring  course  was 
also  the  most  prudent,  namely,  to  go  to  Paris.  Thither 
Paoli  allowed  him  to  proceed,  doubtless  on  the  principle 
of  giving  the  young  madcap  a  rope  wherewith  to  hang 
himself. 

On  his  arrival  at  Marseilles,  he  hears  that  war  has  been 
declared  by  France  against  Austria;  for  the  republican 
Ministry,  which  Louis  XVI.  had  recently  been  compelled 
to  accept,  believed  that  war  against  an  absolute  monarch 
would  intensify  revolutionary  fervour  in  France  and 
hasten  the  advent  of  the  Republic.  Their  surmises  were 
correct.  Buonaparte,  on  his  arrival  at  Paris,  witnessed 
the  closing  scenes  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XVI.  On  June 
20th  he  saw  the  crowd  burst  into  the  Tuileries,  when  for 
some  hours  it  insulted  the  king  and  queen.  Warmly 
though  he  had  espoused  the  principles  of  the  Revolution, 
his  patrician  blood  boiled  at  the  sight  of  these  vulgar  out- 
rages, and  he  exclaimed :  "  Why  don't  they  sweep  off  four 


5  i 

2  a 


II  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  CORSICA  33 

or  five  hundred  of  that  canaille  with  cannon?  The  rest 
would  then  run  away  fast  enough."  The  remark  is  sig- 
nificant. If  his  brain  approved  the  Jacobin  creed,  his 
instincts  were  always  with  monarchy.  His  career  was  to 
reconcile  his  reason  with  his  instincts,  and  to  impose  on 
weary  France  the  curious  compromise  of  a  revolutionary 
Imperialism. 

On  August  10th,  from  the  window  of  a  shop  near  the 
Tuileries,  he  looked  down  on  the  strange  events  which 
dealt  the  coup  de  grdce  to  the  dying  monarchy.  Again 
the  chieftain  within  him  sided  against  the  vulture  rabble 
and  with  the  well-meaning  monarch  who  kept  his  troops 
to  a  tame  defensive.  "If  Louis  XVI."  (so  wrote  Buona- 
parte to  his  brother  Joseph)  "  had  mounted  his  horse,  the 
victory  would  have  been  his  —  so  I  judge  from  the  spirit 
which  prevailed  in  the  morning."  When  all  was  over, 
when  Louis  sheathed  his  sword  and  went  for  shelter  to 
the  National  Assembly,  when  the  fierce  Marseillais  were 
slaughtering  the  Swiss  Guards  and  bodyguards  of  the 
king,  Buonaparte  dashed  forward  to  save  one  of  these 
unfortunates  from  a  southern  sabre.  "  Southern  comrade, 
let  us  save  this  poor  wretch.  —  Are  you  of  the  south  ?  — 
Yes.  —  Well,  we  will  save  him." 

Altogether,  what  a  time  of  disillusionment  this  was  to 
the  young  officer.  What  depths  of  cruelty  and  obscenity 
it  revealed  in  the  Parisian  rabble.  What  folly  to  treat 
them  with  the  Christian  forbearance  shown  by  Louis  XVI. 
How  much  more  suitable  was  grapeshot  than  the  beati- 
tudes. The  lesson  was  stored  up  for  future  use  at  a  some- 
what similar  crisis  on  this  very  spot. 

During  the  few  days  when  victorious  Paris  left  Louis 
with  the  sham  title  of  king,  Buonaparte  received  his 
captain's  commission,  which  was  signed  for  the  king  by 
Servan,  the  War  Minister.  Thus  did  the  revolutionary 
Government  pass  over  his  double  breach  of  military  dis- 
cipline at  Ajaccio.  The  revolutionary  motto,  "  La  carriere 
ouverte  aux  talents,"  was  never  more  conspicuously  illus- 
trated than  in  the  facile  condoning  of  his  offences  and  in 
this  rapid  promotion.  It  was  indeed  a  time  fraught  with 
vast  possibilities  for  all  republican  or  Jacobinical  oncers. 
Their   monarchist  colleagues   were  streaming   over   the 


S4  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chjlp. 

frontiers  to  join  the  Austrian  and  Prussian  invaders. 
But  National  Guards  were  enrolling  by  tens  of  thousands 
to  drive  out  the  Prussian  and  Austrian  invaders;  and 
when  Europe  looked  to  see  France  fall  for  ever,  it  saw 
with  wonder  her  strength  renewed  as  by  enchantment. 
Later  on  it  learnt  that  that  strength  was  the  strengrth  of 
AntSBUs,  of  a  peasantry  that  stood  firmly  rooted  in  their 
native  soil.  Organization  and  good  leadership  alone  were 
needed  to  transform  these  ardent  masses  into  the  most 
formidable  soldiery ;  and  the  brilliant  military  prospects 
now  opened  up  certainly  knit  Buonaparte's  feelings  more 
closely  with  the  cause  of  France.  Thus,  on  September 
21st,  when  the  new  National  Assembly,  known  as  the 
Convention,  proclaimed  the  Republic,  we  may  well  believe 
that  sincere  convictions  no  less  than  astute  calculations 
moved  him  to  do  and  dare  all  things  for  the  sake  of  the 
new  democratic  commonwealth.^ 

For  the  present,  however,  a  family  duty  urges  him  to 
return  to  Corsica.  He  obtains  permission  to  escort  home 
his  sister  Elise,  and  for  the  third  time  we  find  him  on 
furlough  in  Corsica.  This  laxity  of  military  discipline  at 
such  a  crisis  is  explicable  only  on  the  supposition  that  the 
revolutionary  chiefs  knew  of  his  devotion  to  their  cause 
and  believed  that  his  influence  in  the  island  would  render 
his  informal  services  there  more  valuable  than  his  regi- 
mental duties  in  the  army  then  invading  Savoy.  For  the 
word  Republic,  which  fired  his  imagination,  was  an  offence 
to  Paoli  and  to  most  of  the  islanders;  and  the  phrase 
"Republic  one  and  indivisible,"  ever  on  the  lips  of  the 
French,  seemed  to  promise  that  the  island  must  become  a 
petty  replica  of  France  —  France  that  was  now  dominated 
by  the  authors  of  the  vile  September  massacres.  The 
French  party  in  the  island  was  therefore  rapidly  declin- 
ing,  and   Paoli  was  preparing  to  sever  the  union  with 


1  His  recantation  of  Jacobinism  was  so  complete  that  some  persons 
have  doubted  whether  he  ever  sincerely  held  it.  The  doubt  argues  a 
singular  naivete ;  it  is  laid  to  rest  by  Buonaparte's  own  writings,  by  his 
eagerness  to  disown  or  dest|^>y  them,  by  the  testimony  of  everyone  who 
knew  his  early  career,  and  by  his  own  confession :  *'  There  have  been 
good  J&cobins.  At  one  time  every  man  of  spirit  was  bound  to  be  one.  I 
was  one  myself.**     (Thibaudeau,  *^  M^moires  sur  le  Consulat,*'  p.  69.) 


u  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  CORSICA  85 

Fiance.  For  this  he  has  been  bitterly  assailed  as  a  trai- 
tor. But,  from  Paoli's  point  of  view,  the  acquisition  of 
the  island  by  France  was  a  piece  of  rank  treachery ;  and 
his  allegiance  to  France  was  technically  at  an  end  when 
the  king  was  forcibly  dethroned  and  the  Republic  was 
proclaimed.  The  use  of  the  appellation  ^Hraitor"  in 
such  a  case  is  merely  a  piece  of  childish  abuse.  It  can  be 
justified  neither  by  reference  to  law,  equity,  nor  to  the 
popular  sentiment  of  the  time.  Facts  were  soon  to  show 
that  the  islanders  were  bitterly  opposed  to  the  party  then 
dominant  in  France.  This  hostility  of  a  clannish,  reli- 
gious, and  conservative  populace  against  the  bloodthirsty 
and  atheistical  innovators  who  then  lorded  it  over  France 
was  not  diminished  by  the  action  of  some  six  thousand 
French  volunteers,  the  off-scourings  of  the  southern  ports, 
who  were  landed  at  Ajaccio  for  an  expedition  against 
Sardinia.  In  their  zeal  for  Liberty,  Equality,  and  Fra- 
ternity, these  bonnets  rouges  came  to  blows  with  the  men 
of  Ajaccio,  three  of  whom  they  hanged.  So  fierce  was 
the  resentment  caused  by  this  outrage  that  the  plan  of  a 
joint  expedition  for  the  liberation  of  Sardinia  from  monar- 
chical tyranny  had  to  be  modified ;  and  Buonaparte,  who 
was  again  in  command  of  a  battalion  of  Corsican  guards, 
proposed  that  the  islanders  alone  should  proceed  to  attack 
the  Madalena  Isles. 

These  islands,  situated  between  Corsica  and  Sardinia, 
have  a  double  interest  to  the  historical  student.  One  of 
them,  Caprera,  was  destined  to  shelter  another  Italian 
hero  at  the  close  of  his  career,  the  noble  self-denying 
Garibaldi :  the  chief  island  of  the  group  was  the  ob- 
jective of  Buonaparte's  first  essay  in  regular  warfare. 
After  some  delays  the  little  force  set  sail  under  the  com- 
mand of  Cesari-Colonna,  the  nephew  of  Paoli.  Accord- 
ing to  Buonaparte's  own  official  statement  at  the  close  of 
the  affair,  he  had  successfully  landed  his  men  near  the 
town  to  be  assailed,  and  had  thrown  the  Sardinian 
defences  into  confusion,  when  a  treacherous  order  from 
his  chief  bade  him  to  cease  firing  and  return  to  the  ves- 
sels. It  has  also  been  stated  that  this  retreat  was  the  out- 
come of  a  secret  understanding  between  Paoli  and  Cesari- 
Colonna  that  the  expedition  should  miscarry.     This  seems 


36  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

highly  probable.  A  mutiny  on  board  the  chief  ship  of  the 
flotilla  was  assigned  by  Cesari-Colonna  as  the  cause  of  his 
order  for  a  retreat ;  but  there  are  mutinies  and  mutinies, 
and  this  one  may  have  been  a  trick  of  the  Paolists  for 
thwarting  Buonaparte's  plan  and  leaving  him  a  prisoner. 
In  any  case,  the  young  officer  only  saved  himself  and  his 
men  by  a  hasty  retreat  to  the  boats,  tumbling  into  the  sea 
a  mortar  and  four  cannon.  Such  was  the  ending  to  the 
great  captain's  first  military  enterprise. 

On  his  return  to  Ajaccio  (March  8rd,  1793),  Buona- 
parte found  affairs  in  utter  confusion.  News  had  recently 
arrived  of  the  declaration  of  war  by  the  French  Republic 
against  England  and  Holland.  Moreover,  Napoleon's 
young  brother,  Lucien,  had  secretly  denounced  Paoli  to 
the  Jbrench  authorities  at  Toulon;  and  three  commis- 
sioners were  now  sent  from  Paris  charged  with  orders  to 
disband  the  Corsican  National  Guards,  and  to  place  the 
Corsican  dictator  under  the  orders  of  the  French  general 
commanding  the  army  of  Italy.*      ■ 

A  game  of  truly  Macchiavellian  skill  is  now  played. 
The  French  commissioners,  among  whom  the  Corsican 
deputy,  Salicetti,  is  by  far  the  most  able,  invite  Paoli  to 
repair  to  Toulon,  there  to  concert  measures  for  the  defence 
of  Corsica.  Paoli,  seeing  through  the  ruse  and  discerning 
a  guillotine,  pleads  that  his  age  makes  the  journey  impos- 
sible ;  but  with  his  friends  he  quietly  prepares  for  resist- 
ance and  holds  the  citadel  of  Ajaccio.  Meanwhile  the 
commissioners  make  friendly  overtures  to  the  old  chief  ; 
in  these  Napoleon  participates,  being  ignorant  of  Lucien's 
action  at  Toulon.  The  sincerity  of  these  overtures  may 
well  be  called  in  question,  though  Buonaparte  still  used 
the  language  of  affection  to  his  former  idol.  However 
this  may  be,  all  hope  of  compromise  is  dashed  by  the 
zealots  who  are  in  power  at  Paris.  On  April  2nd  they 
order  the  French  commissioners  to  secure  Paoli's  person, 
by  whatever  means,  and  bring  him  to  the  French  capitol. 
At  once  a  cry  of  indignation  goes  up  from  all  parts  of  Cor- 
sica ;  and  Buonaparte  draws  up  a  declaration,  vindicatingr 
Paoli's  conduct  and  begging  the  French  Convention  to 

^  I  use  the  term  commissioner  as  equivalent  to  the  French  reprlaentatu 
en  miesion,  whose  powers  were  almost  limitless. 


n  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  CORSICA  87 

revoke  its  decree.^  Again,  one  cannot  but  suspect  that 
this  declaration  was  intended  mainly,  if  not  solely,  for 
local  consumption.  In  any  case,  it  failed  to  cool  the  resent- 
ment of  the  populace ;  and  the  partisans  of  France  soon 
came  to  blows  with  the  Paolists. 

Salicetti  and  Buonaparte  now  plan  by  various  artifices 
to  gain  the  citadel  of  Ajaccio  from  the  Paolists,  but  guile 
is  three  times  foiled  by  guile  equally  astute.  Failing  here, 
the  young  captain  seeks  to  communicate  with  the  French 
commissioners  at  Bastia.  He  sets  out  secretly,  with  a 
trusty  shepherd  as  companion,  to  cross  the  island  :  but  at 
the  village  of  Bocognano  he  is  recognized  and  imprisoned 
by  the  partisans  of  Paoli.  Some  of  the  villagers,  how- 
ever, retain  their  old  affection  to  the  Buonaparte  family, 
which  here  has  an  ancestral  estate,  and  secretly  set  him 
free.  He  returns  to  Ajaccio,  only  to  find  an  order  for  his 
arrest  issued  by  the  Corsican  patriots.  This  time  he 
escapes  by  timely  concealment  in  the  Sfrotto  of  a  friend's 
ganfen;  Ld  froJi  the  grounds  of  another  famUy  connec- 
tion  he  finally  glides  away  in  a  vessel  to  a  point  of  safety, 
whence  he  reaches  Bastia.  Still,  though  a  fugitive,  he 
persists  in  believing  that  Ajaccio  is  French  at  heart,  and 
urges  the  sending  of  a  liberating  force.  The  French  com- 
missioners agree,  and  the  expedition  sails  —  only  to  meet 
with  utter  failure.  Ajaccio,  as  one  man,  repels  the  par- 
tisans of  France ;  and,  a  gale  of  wind  springing  up,  Buon- 
aparte and  his  men  regain  their  boats  with  the  utmost 
difficulty.  At  a  place  hard  by,  he  finds  his  mother,  uncle, 
brothers  and  sisters.  Madame  Buonaparte,  with  the  ex- 
traordinary tenacity  of  will  that  characterized  her  famous 
son,  had  wished  to  defend  her  house  at  Ajaccio  against  the 
hostile  populace ;  but,  yielding  to  the  urgent  warnings  of 
friends,  finally  fled  to  the  nearest  place  of  safety,  and  left 
the  house  to  the  fury  of  the  populace,  by  whom  it  was 
nearly  wrecked. 

For  a  brief  space  Buonaparte  clung  to  the  hope  of  re- 
gaining Corsica  for  the  Republic,  but  now  only  by  the  aid 
of  French  troops.     For  the  islanders,  stung  by  the  demand 

^  See  this  curious  document  in  Jung,  **  Bonaparte  et  son  Temps/'  vol. 
ii.,  p.  240.  Masson  ignores  it,  but  admits  that  the  Paolists  and  partisans 
of  France  were  only  seeking  to  dupe  one  another. 


88  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

of  the  French  Convention  that  Paoli  should  go  to  Paris, 
had  rallied  to  the  dictator's  side ;  and  the  aged  chief  made 
overtures  to  England  for  alliance.  The  partisans  of 
France,  now  menaced  by  England's  naval  power,  were  in 
an  utterly  untenable  position.  Even  the  steel-like  will  of 
Buonaparte  was  bent.  His  career  in  Corsica  was  at  an 
end  for  the  present ;  and  with  his  kith  and  kin  he  set  sail 
for  France. 

The  interest  of  the  events  above  described  lies,  not  in 
their  intrinsic  importance,  but  in  the  signal  proof  which 
they  afford  of  Buonaparte's  wondrous  endowments  of  mind 
and  will.  In  a  losing  cause  and  in  a  petty  sphere  he  dis- 
plays all  the  qualities  which,  when  the  omens  were  favour- 
able, impelled  him  to  the  domination  of  a  Continent.  He 
fights  every  inch  of  ground  tenaciously;  at  each  emer- 
gency he  evinces  a  truly  Italian  fertility  of  resource,  gliding 
round  obstacles  or  striving  to  shatter  them  by  sheer  au- 
dacity, seeing  through  men,  cajoling  them  by  his  insinua- 
tions or  overawing  them  by  his  mental  superiority,  ever 
determined  to  try  the  fickle  jade  Fortune  to  the  very 
utmost,  and  retreating  only  before  the  inevitable.  The 
sole  weakness  discoverable  in  this  nature,  otherwise  com- 
pact of  strength,  is  an  excess  of  will-power  over  all  the 
faculties  that  make  for  prudence.  His  vivid  imagination 
only  serves  to  fire  him  with  the  full  assurance  that  he  must 
prevail  over  all  obstacles. 

And  yet,  if  he  had  now  stopped  to  weigh  well  the  lessons 
of  the  past,  hitherto  fertile  only  in  failures  and  contradic- 
tions, he  must  have  seen  the  powerlessness  of  his  own  will 
when  in  conflict  with  the  forces  of  the  age ;  for  he  had 
now  severed  his  connection  with  the  Corsican  patriots,  of 
whose  cause  he  had  only  two  years  before  been  the  most 
passionate  champion.  It  is  evident  that  the  schism  which 
nnally  separated  Buonaparte  and  Paoli  originated  in  their 
divergence  of  views  regarding  the  French  Revolution. 
Paoli  accepted  revolutionary  principles  only  in  so  far  as 
they  promised  to  base  freedom  on  a  due  balance  of  class 
interests.  He  was  a  follower  of  Montesquieu.  He  longed 
to  see  in  Corsica  a  constitution  similar  to  that  of  England 
or  to  that  of  1791  in  France.  That  hope  vanished  alike 
for  France  and  Corsica  after  the  fall  of  the  monarchy  ;  and 


8  g 


II  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  AND  CORSICA  39 

towards  the  Jacobinical  Republic,  which  banished  ortho- 
dox priests  and  guillotined  the  amiable  Louis,  Paoli 
thenceforth  felt  naught  but  loathing:  '^We  have  been 
the  enemies  of  kings,  he  said  to  Joseph  Buonaparte ;  ^^  let 
us  never  be  their  executioners."  Thenceforth  he  drifted 
inevitably  into  alliance  with  England. 

Buonaparte,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  follower  of  Rous- 
seau, whose  ideas  leaped  to  power  at  the  downfall  of  the 
monarchy.  Despite  the  excesses  which  he  ever  deplored, 
this  second  Revolution  appeared  to  him  to  be  the  dawn  of 
a  new  and  intelligent  age.  The  clear-cut  definitions  of 
the  new  political  creed  dovetailed  in  with  his  own  rigid 
views  of  life.  Mankind  was  to  be  saved  by  law,  society 
being  levelled  down  and  levelled  up  until  the  ideals  of 
Lycurgus  were  attained.  Consequently  he  regarded  the 
Republic  as  a  mighty  agency  for  the  social  regeneration 
not  only  of  France,  but  of  all  peoples.  His  insular  senti- 
ments were  gradually  merged  in  these  vaster  schemes. 
Self-interest  and  the  differentiating  effects  of  party  strifes 
undoubtedly  assisted  the  mental  transformation ;  but  it  is 
clear  that  the  study  of  the  "Social  Contract"  was  the 
touchstone  of  his  early  intellectual  growth.  He  had  gone 
to  Rousseau's  work  to  deepen  his  Corsican  patriotism :  he 
there  imbibed  doctrines  which  drew  him  irresistibly  into 
the  vortex  of  the  French  Revolution,  and  of  its  wars  of 
propaganda  and  conquest. 


CHAPTER  III 

TOULON 

When  Buonaparte  left  Corsica  for  the  coast  of  Provence, 
his  career  had  been  remarkable  only  for  the  strange  con- 
trast between  the  brilliance  of  his  gifts  and  the  utter  fail- 
ure of  all  his  enterprises.  His  French  partisanship  had,  as 
it  seemed,  been  the  ruin  of  his  own  and  his  family's  fortunes. 
At  the  affe  of  twenty-four  he  was  known  only  as  the  un- 
lucky leader  of  forlorn  hopes  and  an  outcast  from  the  island 
around  which  his  fondest  longings  had  been  entwined. 
His  land-fall  on  the  French  coast  seemed  no  more  promis- 
ing ;  for  at  that  time  Provence  was  on  the  verge  of  revolt 
against  the  revolutionary  Government.  Even  towns  like 
Marseilles  and  Toulon,  which  a  year  earlier  had  been  noted 
for  their  republican  fervour,  were  now  disgusted  with  the 
course  of  events  at  Paris.  In  the  third  cUmax  of  revolu- 
tionary fury,  that  of  June  2nd,  1798,  the  more  enlightened 
of  the  two  republican  factions,  the  Girondins,  had  been 
overthrown  by  their  opponents,  the  men  of  the  Mountain, 
who,  aided  by  the  Parisian  rabble,  seized  on  power.  Most 
of  the  Departments  of  France  resented  this  violence  and 
took  up  arms.  But  the  men  of  the  Mountain  acted  with  . 
extraordinary  energy :  they  proclaimed  the  Girondins  to 
be  in  league  with  the  invaders,  and  blasted  their  opponents 
with  the  charge  of  conspiring  to  divide  France  into  federal 
republics.  The  Committee  of  Public  Safety,  now  installed 
in  power  at  Paris,  decreed  a  levSe  en  masse  of  able-bodied 
patriots  to  defend  the  sacred  soil  of  the  Republic,  and  the 
"  organizer  of  victory,"  Camot,  soon  drilled  into  a  terrible 
efficiency  the  hosts  that  sprang  from  the  soil.  On  their 
side  the  Girondins  had  no  organization  whatever,  and 
were  embarrassed  by  the  adhesion  of  very  many  royalists. 
Consequently  their  wavering  groups  speedily  gave  way 
before  the  impact  of  the  new,  solid,  central  power. 

40 


OBAP.  in  TOULON  41 

A  movement  so  wanting  in  definiteness  as  that  of  the 
Girondins  was  destined  to  slide  into  absolute  opposition 
to  the  men  of  the  Mountain :  it  was  doomed  to  become 
royalist.  Certainly  it  did  not  command  the  adhesion  of 
Napoleon.  His  inclinations  are  seen  in  his  pamphlet, 
'^  Le  Souper  de  Beaucaire,"  which  he  published  in  August, 
1793.  He  wrote  it  in  the  intervals  of  some  regimental 
work  which  had  come  to  hand:  and  his  passage  through 
the  little  town  of  Beaucaire  seems  to  have  suggested  the 
scenic  setting  of  this  little  dialogue.  It  purports  to 
record  a  discussion  between  an  officer^ — Buonaparte  him- 
self—  two  merchants  of  Marseilles,  and  citizens  of  Nimes 
and  Montpellier.  It  urges  the  need  of  united  action 
under  the  lead  of  the  Jacobins.  The  officer  reminds  the 
MarseiUais  of  the  great  services  which  their  city  has  ren- 
dered to  the  cause  of  liberty.  Let  Marseilles  never 
disgrace  herself  by  calling  in  the  Spanish  fleet  as  a  pro- . 
tection  against  Frenchmen.  Let  her  remember  that  this 
civil  strife  was  part  of  a  fight  to  the  death  between 
French  patriots  and  the  despots  of  Europe.  That  was, 
indeed,  the  practical  point  at  issue  ;  the  stern  logic  of 
facts  ranged  on  the  Jacobin  side  all  clear-sighted  men 
who  were  determined  that  the  Revolution  should  not  be 
stamped  out  by  the  foreign  invaders.  On  the  ground  of 
mere  expediency,  men  must  rally  to  the  cause  of  the  Jaco- 
binical Republic.  Every  crime  might  be  condoned,  pro- 
vided that  the  men  now  in  power  at  Paris  saved  the 
country.  Better  their  tyranny  than  the  vengeance  of  the 
emigrant  noblesse.  Such  was  the  instinct  of  most  French- 
men, and  it  saved  France. 

As  an  ea^osS  of  keen  policy  and  all-dominating  oppor- 
tunism, ^^Le  Souper  de  Beaucaire"  is  admirable.  In  a 
national  crisis  anything  that  saves  the  State  is  justifiable 
— that  is  its  argument.  The  men  of  the  Mountain  are 
abler  and  stronger  than  the  Girondins :  therefore  the  Mar- 
seiUais are  foolish  not  to  bow  to  the  men  of  the  Mountain. 
The  author  feels  no  sympathy  with  the  generous  young 
Girondins,  who,  under  the  inspiration  of  Madame  Roland, 
sought  to  establish  a  republic  of  the  virtues  even  while 
they  converted  monarchical  Europe  by  the  sword.  Few 
men  can  now  peruse  with  undimmed  eyes  the  tragic  story 


42  THE  LIFE  OP  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

of  their  fall.  But  the  scenes  of  1793  had  transformed  the 
Corsican  youth  into  a  dry-eyed  opportunist  who  rejects 
the  Girondins  as  he  would  have  thrown  aside  a  defective 
tool :  nay,  he  blames  them  as  ^'  guilty  of  the  greatest  of 
crimes."^ 

Nevertheless  Buonaparte  was  alive  to  the  miseries  of 
the  situation.  He  was  weary  of  civil  strifes,  in  which  it 
seemed  that  no  glory  could  be  won.  He  must  hew  his 
way  to  fortune,  if  only  in  order  to  support  his  family, 
which  was  now  drifting  about  from  village  to  village  of 
Provence  and  subsisting  on  the  slender  sums  doled  out 
by  the  Republic  to  Corsican  exiles. 

He  therefore  applied,  though  without  success,  for  a 
regimental  exchange  to  the  army  of  the  Rhine.  But 
while  toiling  through  his  administrative  drudgery  in 
Provence,  his  duties  brought  him  near  to  Toulon,  where 
the  Republic  was  face  to  face  with  triumphant  royalism. 
The  hour  had  struck  :  the  man  now  appeared. 

In  July,  1793,  Toulon  joined  other  towns  of  the  south 
in  declaring  against  Jacobin  tyranny ;  and  the  royalists 
of  the  town,  despairing  of  making  headway  against  the 
troops  of  the  Convention,  admitted  English  and  Spanish 
squadrons  to  the  harbour  to  hold  the  town  for  Louis  XVII. 
(August  28th).  This  event  shot  an  electric  thrill  through 
France.  It  was  the  climax  of  a  lon^  series  of  disasters. 
Lyons  had  hoisted  the  white  flag  of  the  Bourbons,  and 
was  making  a  desperate  defence  against  the  forces  of  the 
Convention:  the  royalist  peasants  of  La  Vendee  had 
several  times  scattered  the  National  Guards  in  utter  rout : 
the  Spaniards  were  crossing  the  Eastern  Pyrenees :  the 
Piedmontese  were  before  the  gates  of  Grenoble;  and  in 
the  north  and  on  the  Rhine  a  doubtful  contest  was  raging. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  France  when  Buonaparte 
drew  near  to  the  republican  forces  encamped  near  Olli- 
oules,  to  the  north-west  of  Toulon.  He  found  them  in 
disorder :  their  commander,  Carteaux,  had  left  the  easel  to 

^  Buonaparte,  when  First  Consul,  was  dunned  for  payment  by  the 
widow  of  the  Avignon  bookseller  who  published  the  '*  Souper  de  Beau- 
caire."  He  paid  her  well  for  Jiaving  all  the  remaining  copies  destroyed. 
Tet  Panckoucke  in  1818  procured  one  copy,  which  preserved  the  memory 
of  Buonaparte's  early  Jacobinism. 


m  TOULON  43 

learn  the  art  of  war,  and  was  ignorant  of  the  range  of  his 
few  cannon  ;  Dommartin,  their  artillery  commander,  had 
been  disabled  by  a  wound ;  and  the  Commissioners  of  the 
Convention,  who  were  charged  to  put  new  vigour  into 
the  operations,  were  at  their  wits'  end  for  lack  of  men  and 
munitions.  One  of  them  was  Salicetti,  who  hailed  his 
coming  as  a  godsend,  and  urged  him  to  take  Dommartin's 
place.  Thus,  on  September  16th,  the  thin,  sallow,  thread- 
bare figure  took  command  of  the  artillery. 

The  republicans  menaced  the  town  on  two  sides.  Car- 
teaux  with  some  8,000  men  held  the  hills  between  Toulon 
and  OUioules,  while  a  corps  3,000  strong,  under  Lapoype, 
observed  the  fortress  on  the  side  of  La  Valette.  Badly 
led  though  they  were,  they  wrested  the  valley  north  of 
Mount  Faron  from  the  allied  outposts,  and  nearly  com- 
pleted the  besiegers'  lines  (September  18th).  In  fact, 
the  garrison,  which  comprised  only  2,000  British  troops, 
4,000  Spaniards,  1,500  French  royalists,  together  with  some 
NeapolittuLS  and  Piedmontese,  was  insufficient  to  defend 
the  many  positions  around  the  city  on  which  its  safety 
depended.  Indeed,  General  Grey  wrote  to  Pitt  that  60,000 
men  were  needed  to  garrison  the  place ;  but,  as  that  was 
double  the  strength  of  the  British  regular  army  then,  the 
English  Minister  could  only  hold  out  nopes  of  the  arrival 
of  an  Austrian  corps  and  a  few  hundred  British.^ 

Before  Buonaparte's  arrival  the  Jacobins  had  no  artil- 
lery :  true,  they  had  a  few  field-pieces,  four  heavier  guns 
and  two  mortars,  which  a  sergeant  helplessly  surveyed; 
but  they  had  no  munitions,  no  tools,  above  all  no  method 
and  no  discipline.  Here  then  was  the  opportunity  for 
which  he  had  been  pining.  At  once  he  assumes  the  tone 
of  a  master.     '^  You  mind  your  business,  and  let  me  look 

^  I  have  chiefly  followed  the  careful  account  of  the  siege  given  by  Cottin 
in  his  ''  Toulon  et  les  Anglais  en  1793  *'  (Paris,  1808). 

The  following  official  figures  show  the  wei^ess  of  the  British  army. 
In  December,  1702,  the  parliamentary  vote  was  for  17,344  men  as  **  guards 
and  garrisons,  *  *  besides  a  few  at  Gibraltar  and  Sydney.  In  February,  1793, 
9,945 additional  men  were  voted  and  100  *^ independent  companies"  :  Han- 
overians were  also  embodied.  In  February,  1794,  the  number  of  British 
regulars  was  raised  to  60,244.  For  the  navy  the  figures  were :  December, 
1702,  20,000  sailors  and  5,000  marines ;  February,  1793,  20,000  additional 
seamen ;  for  1794,  73,000  seamen  and  12,000  marines.     (**  Ann.  Reg.") 


44  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chxf. 

after  mine/'  he  exclaims  to  officious  infantrymen ;  ^^  it  is 
artillery  that  takes  fortresses:  infantry  gives  its  help/' 
The  drudgery  of  the  last  weeks  now  yields  fruitful  results : 
his  methodical  mind,  brooding  over  the  chaos  before  him, 
flashes  back  to  this  or  that  detail  in  some  coast  fort  or 
magazine :  his  energy  hustles  on  the  leisurely  Provengaux, 
and  in  a  few  days  he  ha^  a  respectable  park  of  artillery  — 
fourteen  cannon,  four  mortars,  and  the  necessary  stores. 
In  a  brief  space  the  Commissioners  show  their  approval 
of  his  services  by  promoting  him  to  the  rank  of  chef  de 
bataillon. 

By  this  time  the  tide  was  beginning  to  turn  in  favour 
of  the  Republic.  On  October  9th  Lyons  fell  before  the 
Jacobins.  The  news  lends  a  new  zest  to  the  Jacobins, 
whose  left  wing  had  (October  1st)  been  severely  handled 
by  the  allies  on  Mount  Faron.  Above  all,  Buonaparte's 
artillery  can  be  still  further  strengthened.  ^^  I  have  de- 
spatched," he  wrote  to  the  Minister  of  War,  "  an  intelli- 
gent officer  to  Lyons,  Briangon,  and  Grenoble,  to  procure 
what  might  be  useful  to  us.  I  have  requested  the  Army 
of  Italy  to  furnish  us  with  the  cannon  now  useless  for  the 
defence  of  Antibes  and  Monaco.  ...  I  have  established 
at  OUioules  an  arsenal  with  80  workers.  I  have  requi- 
sitioned horses  from  Nice  right  to  Valence  and  Mont- 
pellier.  ...  I  am  having  5,000  gabions  made  every  day 
at  Marseilles."  But  he  was  more  than  a  mere  organizer. 
He  was  ever  with  his  men,  animating  them  by  his  own 
ardour:  "I  always  found  him  at  his  post,"  wrote  Doppet, 
who  now  succeeded  Carteaux ;  "  when  he  needed  rest  he 
lay  on  the  ground  wrapped  in  his  cloak :  he  never  left  the 
batteries."  There,  amidst  the  autumn  rains,  he  contracted 
the  febrile  symptoms  which  for  several  years  deepened  the 
pallor  of  his  cheeks  and  furrowed  the  rings  under  his  eyes, 
giving  him  that  uncanny,  almost  spectral,  look  which  struck 
a  chill  to  all  who  saw  him  first  and  knew  not  the  fiery 
energy  that  burnt  within.  There,  too,  his  zeal,  his  un-  " 
failing  resource,  his  bulldog  bravery,  and  that  indefinable 
quality  which  separates  genius  from  talent  speedily  con- 
quered the  hearts  of  the  French  soldiery.  One  example 
of  this  magnetic  power  must  here  suffice.  He  had  ordered 
a  battery  to  be  made  so  near  to  Fort  Mulgrave  that  Sail- 


m  TOULON  45 

cetti  described  it  as  within  a  pistol-shot  of  the  English 
guns.  Gould  it  be  worked,  its  effect  would  be  decisive. 
But  who  could  work  it?  The  first  day  saw  all  its  gun- 
ners killed  or  wounded,  and  even  the  reckless  Jacobins 
flinched  from  facing  the  iron  hail.  ^^  Call  it  the  battery  of 
the  fearle%%^^^  ordered  the  young  captain.  The  generous 
French  nature  was  touched  at  its  tenderest  point,  personal 
and  national  honour,  and  the  battery  thereafter  never  lacked 
its  full  complement  of  gunners,  living  and  dead. 

The  position  at  Fort  Mulgrave,  or  the  Little  Gibraltar, 
was,  indeed,  all  important ;  for  if  the  republicans  seized 
that  commanding  position,  the  allied  squadrons  could  be 
overpowered,  or  at  least  compelled  to  sail  away ;  and  with 
their  departure  Toulon  must  fall. 

Here  we  come  on  to  ground  that  has  been  fiercely  fought 
over  in  wordy  war.  Did  Buonaparte  originate  the  plan  of 
attack?  Or  did  he  throw  his  weight  and  influence  into  a 
scheme  that  others  beside  him  had  designed?  Or  did  he 
merely  carry  out  orders  as  a  subordinate  ?  According  to  the 
Commissioner  Barras,  the  last  was  the  case.  But  Barras 
was  with  the  eastern  wing  of  the  besiegers,  that  is,  some 
miles  away  from  the  side  of  La  Seyne  and  L'Eguillette, 
where  Buonaparte  fought.  Besides,  Barras'  "  Memoires  " 
are  so  untruthful  where  Buonaparte  is  concerned,  as  to  be 
unworthy  of  serious  attention,  at  least  on  these  points.^ 
The  historian  M.  Jung  likewise  relegates  Buonaparte  to  a 
quite  subordinate  position.^  But  his  narrative  omits  some 
of  the  official  documents  which  show  that  Buonaparte 
played  a  very  important  part  in  the  siege.  Other  writers 
claim  that  Buonaparte's  influence  on  the  whole  conduct  of 
operations  was  paramount  and  decisive.  Thus,  M.  Duruy 
quotes  the  letter  of  the  Commissioners  to  the  Convention: 
"  We  shall  take  care  not  to  lay  siege  to  Toulon  by  ordi- 
nary means,  when  we  have  a  surer  means  to  reduce  it,  that 
is,  by  burning  the  enemy's  fleet.  .  .  .  We  are  only  wait- 
ing for  the  siege-guns  before  taking  up  a  position  whence 
we  may  reach  the  ships  with  red-hot  balls ;  and  we  shall 
see  if  we  are  not  masters  of  Toulon."     But  this  very  let- 

^  Barras'  **  Memoires '^  are  not  by  any  means  wholly  his.    They  are 
a  compUation  by  Rousselin  de  Saint* Albin  from  the  Barras  papers. 
*  Jong,  **  Bonaparte  et  son  Temps/ ^  vol.  ii. 


46  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap,  hi 

ter  disproves  the  Buonapartist  claim.  It  was  written  on  j 
September  13th.  Thus,  three  days  before  Buonaparte'a  ll 
arrival^  the  Commissioners  had  fully  decided  on  attacking  1 
the  Little  Gibraltar  ;  and  the  claim  that  Buonaparte 
originated  the  plan  can  only  be  sustained  by  antedating 
his  arrival  at  Toulon.^  In  fact,  every  experienced  officer 
among  besiegers  and  besieged  saw  the  weak  point  of  the 
defence :  early  in  September  Hood  and  Mulgrave  began 
the  fortification  of  the  heights  behind  L'Eguillette.  In 
face  of  these  facts,  the  assertion  that  Buonaparte  was  the 
first  to  design  the  movements  which  secured  the  surrender 
of  Toulon  must  be  relegated  to  the  domain  of  hero-wor- 
ship. 

Carteaux  having  been  superseded  by  Doppet,  more  energy 
was  thrown  into  the  operations.  Yet  for  him  Buonaparte 
had  scarcely  more  respect.  On  November  15th  an  affair 
of  outposts  near  Fort  Mulgrave  showed  his  weakness. 
The  soldiers  on  both  sides  eagerly  took  up  the  affray ; 
line  after  line  of  the  French  rushed  up  towards  that 
frowning  redoubt:  O'Hara,  the  leader  of  the  allied 
troops,  encouraged  the  British  in  a  sortie  that  drove 
back  the  blue-coats;  whereupon  Buonaparte  headed  the 
rallying  rush  to  the  gorge  of  the  redoubt,  when  Doppet 
sounded  the  retreat.  Half  blinded  by  rage  and  by  the 
blood  trickling  from  a  slight  wound  in  his  forehead,  the 
young  Corsican  rushed  back  to  Doppet  and  abused  him 
in  the  language  of  the  camp  :  ^^  Our  blow  at  Toulon  has 
missed,  because  a has  beaten  the  retreat."  The  sol- 
diery applauded  this  revolutionary  licence,  and  bespattered 
their  chief  with  similar  terms. 

A  few  days  later  the  tall  soldierly  Dugommier  took  the 
command :  reinforcements  began  to  pour  in,  finally  raising 
the  strength  of  the  besiegers  to  87,000  men.  Above  all, 
the  new  commander  gave  Buonaparte  carte  blanche  for 
the  direction  of  the  artillery.  New  batteries  accordingly 
began  to  ring  the  Little  Gibraltar  on  the  landward  side ; 

^  M.  G.  Duniy^s  elaborate  plea  (Barras,  **  Mems.,'*  Introduction, 
pp.  69-79)  rests  on  the  supposition  that  his  hero  arrived  at  Toulon  on 
September  7th.  But  M.  Chuquet  has  shown  Q^  Cosmopolis,*^  January, 
1897^  that  he  arrived  there  not  earlier  than  September  16th.  So  too 
Cottfn,  ch.  xi. 


S   ll 

If! 


1     tl 


Ml 


iJil 


48  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chaf. 

O'Hara,  while  gallantly  heading  a  sortie,  fell  into  the 
republicans'  hands,  and  the  defenders  began  to  lose  heart. 
The  worst  disappointment  was  the  refusal  of  the  Austrian 
Court  to  fulfil  its  promise,  solemnly  given  in  September, 
to  send  6,000  regular  troops  for  the  defence  of  Toulon. 

The  final  conflict  took  place  on  the  night  of  December 
16-17,  when  torrents  of  rain,  a  raging  wind,  and  flashes 
of  lightning  added  new  horrors  to  the  strife.  Scarcely 
had  the  assailants  left  the  sheltering  walls  of  La  Seyne, 
than  Buonaparte's  horse  fell  under  him,  shot  dead :  whole 
companies  went  astray  in  the  darkness:  yet  the  first 
column  of  2,000  men  led  by  Victor  rush  at  the  palisades 
of  Fort  Mulgrave,  tear  them  down,  and  sweep  into  the 
redoubt,  only  to  fall  in  heaps  before  a  second  line  of  de- 
fence :  supported  by  the  second  column,  they  rally,  only 
to  yield  once  more  before  the  murderous  fire.  In  despair 
Dugommier  hurries  on  the  column  of  reserve,  with  which 
Buonaparte  awaits  the  crisis  of  the  night.  Led  by  the 
gallant  young  Muiron,  the  reserve  sweeps  into  the  gorge 
of  death  ;  Muiron,  Buonaparte,  and  Dugommier  hack 
their  way  through  the  same  embrasure  :  their  men  swarm 
in  on  the  overmatched  red-coats  and  Spaniards,  cut  them 
down  at  their  guns,  and  the  redoubt  is  won. 

This  event  was  decisive.  The  Neapolitans,  who  were 
charged  to  hold  the  neighbouring  forts,  flung  themselves 
into  the  sea ;  and  the  ships  themselves  began  to  weigh 
anchor ;  for  Buonaparte's  guns  soon  poured  their  shot 
on  the  fleet  and  into  the  city  itself.  But  even  in  that 
desperate  strait  the  allies  turned  fiercely  to  bay.  On 
the  evening  of  December  17th  a  young  oflicer,  who  was 
destined  once  more  to  thwart  Buonaparte's  designs,  led 
a  small  body  of  picked  men  into  the  dockyard  to  snatch 
from  the  rescuing  clutch  of  the  Jacobins  the  French  war- 
ships that  could  not  be  carried  oflF.  Then  was  seen  a 
weird  sight.  The  galley  slaves,  now  freed  from  their 
chains  and  clustering  in  angry  groups,  menaced  the  in- 
truders. Yet  the  British  seamen  spread  the  combustibles 
and  let  loose  the  demon  of  destruction.  Forthwith  the 
flames  shot  up  the  masts,  and  licked  up  the  stores  of  hemp, 
tar,  and  timber  :  and  the  explosion  of  two  powder  ships 
by  the  Spaniards  shook  the  earth  for  many  miles  around. 


m  TOULON  49 

Napoleon  ever  retained  a  vivid  mental  picture  of  the 
scene,  which  amid  the  hated  calm  of  St.  Helena  he  thus 
described  :  ^^  The  whirlwind  of  flames  and  smoke  from  the 
arsenal  resembled  the  eruption  of  a  volcano,  and  the  thir- 
teen vessels  blazing  in  the  roads  were  like  so  many  dis- 
plays of  fireworks  :  the  masts  and  forms  of  the  vessels 
were  distinctly  traced  out  by  the  flames,  which  lasted 
many  hours  and  formed  an  unparalleled  spectacle."  ^  The 
sight  struck  horror  to  the  hearts  of  the  royalists  of  Tou- 
lon, who  saw  in  it  the  signal  of  desertion  by  the  allies ; 
and  through  the  lurid  night  crowds  of  panic-stricken 
wretches  thronged  the  quays  crying  aloud  to  be  taken 
away  from  the  doomed  city.  The  glare  of  the  flames,  the 
crash  of  the  enemy's  bombs,  the  explosion  of  the  two 
powder-ships,  frenzied  many  a  soul ;  and  scores  of  those 
who  could  find  no  place  in  the  boats  flung  themselves  into 
the  sea  rather  than  face  the  pikes  and  guillotines  of  the 
Jacobins.  Their  feai*s  were  only  too  well  founded ;  for 
a  fortnight  later  Freron,  the  Commissioner  of  the  Con- 
vention, boasted  that  two  hundred  royalists  perished 
daily. 

It  remains  briefly  to  consider  a  question  of  special  inter- 
est to  English  readers.  Did  the  Pitt  Ministry  intend  to 
betray  the  confidence  of  the  French  royalists  and  keep 
Toulon  for  England  ?  The  charge  has  been  brought  by 
certain  French  writers  that  the  British,  after  entering 
Toulon  with  promise  that  they  would  hold  it  in  pledge 
for  Louis  XVII.,  nevertheless  lorded  it  over  the  other 
allies  and  revealed  their  intention  of  keeping  that  strong- 
hold. These  writers  aver  that  Hood,  after  entering  Tou- 
lon as  an  equal  with  the  Spanish  admiral,  Langara,  laid 
claim  to  entire  command  of  the  land  forces  ;  that  English 
commissioners  were  sent  for  the  administration  of  the 
town  ;  and  that  the  English  Government  refused  to  allow 
the  coming  of  the  Comte  de  Provence,  who,  as  the  elder  of 

^  Ab  the  burning  of  the  French  ships  and  stores  has  been  said  to  be 
solely  due  to  the  English,  we  may  note  that,  ds  early  as  October  Srdy  the 
Spanish  Foreign  Minister,  the  Dae  d^Alcuida,  suggested  it  to  our  ambas- 
sador, Lord  St.  Helens :  ^^  If  it  becomes  necessary  to  abandon  the  har- 
boor,  these  vessels  ^sUl  be  sunk  or  set  on  fire  in  order  that  the  enemy 
may  not  make  use  of  them ;  for  which  purpose  preparations  shall  be  made 
beforehand." 


60  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

the  two  surviving  brothers  of  Louis  XVI.,  was  entitled  to 
act  on  behalf  of  Louis  XVIL^  The  facts  in  the  main  are 
correct,  but  the  interpretation  put  upon  them  may  well 
be  questioned.  Hood  certainly  acted  with  much  arro- 
gance towards  the  Spaniards.  But  when  the  more  cour- 
teous O'Hara  arrived  to  take  command  of  the  British, 
Neapolitan,  and  Sardinian  troops,  the  new  commander 
agreed  to  lay  aside  the  question  of  supreme  command.  It 
was  not  till  November  30th  that  the  British  Government 
sent  off  any  despatch  on  the  question,  which  meanwhile 
had  been  settled  at  Toulon  by  the  exercise  of  that  tact  in 
which  Hood  seems  signally  to  have  been  lacking.  The 
whole  question  was  personal,  not  national. 

Still  less  was  the  conduct  of  the  British  Government 
towards  the  Comte  de  Provence  a  proof  of  its  design  to 
keep  Toulon.  The  records  of  our  Foreign  Office  show 
that,  before  the  occupation  of  that  stronghold  for  Louis 
XVII.,  we  had  declined  to  acknowledge  the  claims  of  his 
uncle  to  the  Regency.  He  and  his  brother,  the  Comte 
d'Artois,  were  notoriously  unpopular  in  France,  except 
with  royalists  of  the  old  school;  and  their  presence  at 
Toulon  would  certainly  have  raised  awkward  questions 
about  the  future  government.  The  conduct  of  Spain  had 
hitherto  been  similar.^  But  after  the  occupation  of  Tou- 
lon, the  Court  of  Madrid  judged  the  presence  of  the  Comte 
de  Provence  in  that  fortress  to  be  advisable ;  whereas  the 
Pitt  Ministry  adhered  to  its  former  belief,  insisted  on  the 
difficulty  of  conducting  the  defence  if  the  Prince  were 
present  as  Regent,  instructed  Mr.  Drake,  our  Minister  at 
Genoa,  to  use  every  argument  to  deter  him  from  proceed- 
ing to  Toulon,  and  privately  ordered  our  officers  there,  in 
the  last  resort,  to  refuse  him  permission  to  land.  The  in- 
structions of  October  18th  to  the  royal  commissioners  at 
Toulon  show  that  George  III.  and  his  Ministers  believed 
they  would  be  compromising  the  royaUst  cause  by  recog- 

1  Thiers,  ch.  xxx. ;  Cottin,  "L'Angleterre  et  les  Princes." 
^  See  Lord  Grenville^s  despatch  of  August  9th,  1793,  to  Lord  St. 
Helens  ("F.  0.  Records,  Spain,"  No.  28),  printed  by  M.  Cottin,  p.  428. 
He  does  not  print  the  more  important  despatch  of  October  22nd,  where 
Grenville  asserts  that  the  admission  of  the  French  princes  would  tend  to 
invalidate  the  constitution  of  1791,  for  which  the  allies  were  working. 


Ill  TOULON  61 

nizing  a  regency ;  and  certainly  any  effort  by  the  allies  to 
prejudice  the  future  settlement  would  at  once  have  shat- 
tered any  hopes  of  a  general  raUy  to  the  royalist  side.^ 

Besides,  if  England  meant  to  keep  Toulon,  why  did  she 
send  only  2,200  soldiers?  Why  did  she  admit,  not  only 
6,900  Spaniards,  but  also  4,900  Neapolitans  and  1,600  Pied- 
montese  ?  Why  did  she  accept  the  armed  help  of  1,600 
French  royalists?  Why  did  she  urgently  plead  with  Aus- 
tria to  send  5,000  white-coats  from  Milan?  Why,  finally, 
is  there  no  word  in  the  British  official  despatches  as  to  the 
eventual  keeping  of  Toulon ;  while  there  are  several  ref- 
erences to  indemnities  which  George  III.  would  require  for 
the  expenses  of  the  war  —  such  as  Corsica  or  some  of  the 
French  West  Indies  ?  Those  despatches  show  conclusively 
that  England  did  not  wish  to  keep  a  fortress  that  required 
a  permanent  garrison  equal  to  half  of  the  British  army 
on  its  peace  footing ;  but  that  she  did  regard  it  as  a  good 
base  of  operations  for  the  overthrow  of  the  Jacobin  rule 
and  the  restoration  of  monarchy ;  whereupon  her  services 
must  be  requited  with  some  suitable  indemnity,  either  one 
of  the  French  West  Indies  or  Corsica.  These  plans  were 
shattered  by  Buonaparte's  skill  and  the  valour  of  Dugom- 
mier's  soldiery ;  but  no  record  has  yet  leaped  to  light  to 
convict  the  Pitt  Ministry  of  the  perfidy  which  Buonaparte, 
in  common  with  nearly  all  Frenchmen,  charged  to  their 
account. 

1 A  letter  of  Lord  Mulgrave  to  Mr.  Trevor,  at  Turin  ("  F.  0.  Records, 
Sardinia,'*  No.  13),  states  that  he  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  getting  on 
with  the  French  royalists :  ^*  You  must  not  send  us  one  imigri  of  any 
sort — they  would  be  a  nuisance :  they  are  all  so  various  and  so  violent, 
whether  for  despotism,  constitution,  or  republic,  that  we  should  be  dis- 
tracted with  their  quarrels ;  and  they  are  so  assuming,  forward,  dictatorial, 
and  full  of  complaints,  that  no  business  could  go  on  with  them.  Lord 
Hood  is  averse  to  receiving  any  of  them.*' 


CHAPTER  IV 

VENBlilMIAIBE 

The  next  period  of  Buonaparte's  life  presents  few 
features  of  interest.  He  was  called  upon  to  supervise 
the  guns  and  stores  for  the  Army  of  Italy,  and  also  to 
inspect  the  fortifications  and  artillery  of  the  coast.  At 
Marseilles  his  zeal  outstripped  his  discretion.  He  ordered 
the  reconstruction  of  the  fortress  which  had  been  de- 
stroyed during  the  Revolution ;  but  when  the  townsfolk 
heard  the  news,  they  protested  so  vehemently  that  the 
work  was  stopped  and  an  order  was  issued  for  Buona- 
parte's arrest.  From  this  difficulty  the  friendship  of  the 
younger  Robespierre  and  of  Salicetti,  the  Commissioners 
of  the  Convention,  availed  to  rescue  him  ;  but  the  incident 
proves  that  his  services  at  Toulon  were  not  so  brilliant  as 
to  have  raised  him  above  the  general  level  of  meritorious 
officers,  who  were  applauded  while  they  prospered,  but 
might  be  sent  to  the  guillotine  for  any  serious  offence. 

In  April,  1794,  he  was  appointed  at  Nice  general  in 
command  of  the  artillery  of  the  Army  of  Italy,  which 
drove  the  Sardinian  troops  from  several  positions  between 
Ventimiglia  and  Oneglia.  Thence,  swinging  round  by 
passes  of  the  Maritime  Alps,  they  outflanked  the  positions 
of  the  Austro-Sardinian  forces  at  the  Col  di  Tenda,  which 
had  defied  all  attack  in  front.  Buonaparte's  share  in  this 
turning  operation  seems  to  have  been  restricted  to  the 
effective  handling  of  artillery,  and  the  chief  credit  here 
rested  with  Massena,  who  won  the  first  of  his  laurels  in 
the  country  of  his  birth.  He  was  of  humble  parentage ; 
yet  his  erect  bearing,  proud  animated  glance,  curt  pene- 
trating speech,  and  keen  repartees,  proclaimed  a  nature  at 
once  active  and  wary,  an  intellect  both  calculating  and 
confident.     Such  was  the  man  who  was  to  immortalize  his 

62 


OHAP.  IT  VENDIiMIAIRE  68 

name  in  many  a  contest,  nntil  his  glory  paled  before  the 
greater  genius  of  Wellington. 

Much  of  the  credit  of  organizing  this  previously  unsuc- 
cessful army  belongs  to  the  younger  Robespierre,  who,  as 
Commissioner  of  the  Convention,  infused  his  energy  into 
all  departments  of  the  service.  For  some  months  his  rela- 
tions to  Buonaparte  were  those  of  intimacy  ;  but  whether 
they  extended  to  complete  sympathy  on  political  matters 
may  be  doubted.  The  younger  Robespierre  held  the  revo- 
lutionary creed  with  sufficient  ardour,  though  one  of  his 
letters  dated  from  Oneglia  suggests  that  the  fame  of  the 
Terror  was  hurtful  to  the  prospects  of  the  campaign.  It 
states  that  the  whole  of  the  neighbouring  inhabitants  had 
fled  before  the  French  soldiers,  in  the  belief  that  they 
were  destroyers  of  religion  and  eaters  of  babies  :  this  was 
inconvenient,  as  it  prevented  the  supply  of  provisions  and 
the  success  of  forced  loans.  The  letter  sug&^ests  that  he 
was  a  man  of  action  rather  than  of  ideas,  anf  probably  it 
was  this  practical  quality  which  bound  Buonaparte  in 
friendship  to  him.  Yet  it  is  difficult  to  fathom  Buona- 
parte's ideas  about  the  revolutionary  despotism  which  was 
then  deluging  Paris  with  blood.  Outwardly  he  appeared 
to  sympathize  with  it.  Such  at  least  is  the  testimony  of 
Marie  Robespierre,  with  whom  Buonaparte's  sisters  were 
then  intimate.  "Buonaparte,"  she  said,  "was  a  repub- 
lican :  I  will  even  say  that  he  took  the  side  of  the  Moun- 
tain :  at  least,  that  was  the  impression  left  on  my  mind  by 
his  opinions  when  I  was  at  Nice.  .  .  .  His  admiration  for 
my  elder  brother,  his  friendship  for  my  younger  brother, 
and  perhaps  also  the  interest  inspired  by  my  misfortunes, 
gained  for  me,  under  the  Consulate,  a  pension  of  3,600 
francs."  ^  Equally  noteworthy  is  the  later  declaration  of 
Napoleon  that  Robespierre  was  the  "  scapegoat  of  the 
Revolution."*  It  appears  probable,  then,  that  he  shared 
the  Jacobinical  belief  that  the  Terror  was  a  necessary 
though  painful  stage  in  the  purification  of  the  body  poli- 
tic. His  admiration  of  the  rigour  of  Lycurgus,  and  his 
dislike  of  all  superfluous  luxury,  alike  favour  this  suppo- 

1  Jang,  *'  Bonaparte  et  son  Temps/'  vol.  ii.,  p.  430. 
3  **  Memorial/'  ch.  ii.,  November,  1815.     See  also  Thibaudean,  **M^ 
moires  sur  le  Consolat,*'  vol.  i.,  p.  69. 


64  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  okat. 

sition ;  and  as  he  always  had  the  courage  of  his  convictions, 
it  is  impossible  to  conceive  him  clinging  to  the  skirts  of 
the  terrorists  merely  from  a  mean  hope  of  prospective 
favours.  That  is  the  alternative  explanation  of  his  inti- 
macy with  young  Robespierre.  Some  of  his  injudicious 
admirers,  in  trying  to  disprove  his  complicity  with  the 
terrorists,  impale  themselves  on  this  horn  of  the  dilemma. 
In  seeking  to  clear  him  from  the  charge  of  Terrorism, 
they  stain  him  with  the  charge  of  truckling  to  the  terror- 
ists. They  degrade  him  from  the  level  of  St.  Just  to  that 
of  Barrere. 

A  sentence  in  one  of  young  Robespierre's  letters  shows 
that  he  never  felt  completely  sure  about  the  young  officer. 
After  enumerating  to  his  brother  Buonaparte's  merits,  he 
adds  :  ^^  He  is  a  Corsican,  and  offers  only  the  guarantee  of 
a  man  of  that  nation  who  has  resisted  the  caresses  of  Paoli 
and  whose  property  has  been  ravaged  by  that  traitor." 
Evidently,  then,  Robespierre  regarded  Buonaparte  with 
some  suspicion  as  an  insular  Proteus,  lacking  those  sure- 
ties, mental  and  pecuniary,  which  reduced  a  man  to  dog- 
like fidelity. 

Yet,  however  warily  Buonaparte  picked  his  steps  along 
the  slopes  of  the  revolutionary  volcano,  he  was  destined  to 
feel  the  scorch  of  the  central  fires.  He  had  recently  been 
intrusted  with  a  mission  to  the  Genoese  Republic,  which 
was  in  a  most  difficult  position.  It  was  subject  to  pressure 
from  three  sides;  from  English  men-of-war  that  had 
swooped  down  on  a  French  frigate,  the  "Modeste,"  in 
Genoese  waters ;  and  from  actual  invasion  by  the  French 
on  the  west  and  by  the  Austrians  on  the  north.  Despite 
the  great  difficulties  of  his  task,  the  young  envoy  bent  the 
distracted  Doge  and  Senate  to  his  will.  He  might,  there- 
fore, have  expected  gratitude  from  his  adopted  country; 
but  shortly  after  he  returned  to  Nice  he  was  placed  under 
arrest,  and  was  imprisoned  in  a  fort  near  Antibes. 

The  causes  of  this  swift  reverse  of  fortune  were  curi- 
ously complex.  The  Robespierres  had  in  the  meantime 
been  guillotined  at  Paris  (July  24th,  or  Thermidor  10th) ; 
and  this  "  Thermidorian  "  reaction  alone  would  have  suf- 
ficed to  endanger  Buonaparte's  head.  But  his  position 
was  further  imperilled  by  his  recent  strategic  suggestions, 


I 


2 1 

=  ^ 


{ 


:-i 


IV 


YEND^IMIAIBE  66 


which  had  served  to  reduce  to  a  secondary  rSle  the  French 
Army  of  the  Alps.  The  operations  of  that  force  had  of 
late  been  strangely  thwarted ;  and  its  leaders,  searching 
for  the  paralyzing  influence,  discovered  it  in  the  advice  of 
Buonaparte.  Their  suspicions  against  him  were  formu- 
lated in  a  secret  letter  to  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety, 
which  stated  that  the  Army  of  the  Alps  had  been  kept 
inactive  by  the  intrigues  of  the  younger  Robespierre  and 
of  Ricord.  Many  a  head  had  fallen  for  reasons  less  serious 
than  these.  But  Buonaparte  had  one  infallible  safeguard : 
he  could  not  well  be  spared.  After  a  careful  examination 
of  his  papers,  the  Commissioners,  Salicetti  and  Albitte, 
provisionally  restored  him  to  liberty,  but  not,  for  some 
weeks,  to  his  rank  of  general  (August  20th,  1794).  The 
chief  reason  assigned  for  his  liberation  was  the  service 
which  his  knowledge  and  talents  might  render  to  the  Re- 
public, a  reference  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Italian  coast- 
line which  he  had  gained  during  the  mission  to  Genoa. 

For  a  space  bis  daring  spirit  was  doomed  to  chafe  in 
comparative  inactivity,  in  supervising  the  coast  artillery. 
But  his  faults  were  forgotten  in  the  need  which  was  soon 
felt  for  his  warlike  prowess.  An  expedition  was  prepared 
to  free  Corsica  from  "  the  tyranny  of  the  English  " ;  and 
in  this  Buonaparte  sailed,  as  general  conlmanding  the 
artillery.  With  him  were  two  friends,  Junot  and  Mar- 
mont,  who  had  clung  to  him  through  his  recent  troubles ; 
the  former  was  to  be  helped  to  wealth  and  fame  by  Buona- 
parte's friendship,  the  Latter  by  his  own  brilliant  gifts.  ^ 
In  this  expedition  their  talent  was  of  no  avail.  The 
French  were  worsted  in  an  engagement  with  the  British 
fleet,  and  fell  back  in  confusion  to  the  coast  of  France. 
Once  again  Buonaparte's  Corsican  enterprises  were  frus- 
trated by  the  ubiquitous  lords  of  the  sea :  against  them 
he  now  stored  up  a  double  portion  of  hate,  for  in  the 
meantime  his  inspectorship  of  coast  artillery  had  been 
given  to  his  fellow-countryman,  Casabianca. 

1  MannoDt  (1774-1852)  became  sub-lieutenant  in  1789,  served  with 
Buonaparte  in  Italy,  Egypt,  etc.,  received  the  title  Due  de  Ragusa  in 
1808,  Marshal  in  1809 ;  was  defeated  by  Wellington  at  Salamanca  in 
1812,  deserted  to  the  allies  in  1814.  Junot  (1771-1813)  entered  the  army 
in  1791 ;  was  famed  as  a  cavalry  general  in  the  wars  1796-1807 ;  conquered 
Portugal  in  1808,  and  received  Uie  title  Due  d'Abrant^s ;  died  mad. 


66  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  CHiLP. 

The  fortuneB  of  these  Gorsican  exiles  drifted  hither 
and  thither  in  many  perplexing  currents,  as  Buonaparte 
was  once  more  to  discover.  It  was  a  prevalent  complaint 
that  there  were  too  many  of  them  seeking  employment  in 
the  army  of  the  south  ;  and  a  note  respecting  the  career 
of  the  young  officer  made  by  General  Scherer,  who  now 
commanded  the  French  Army  of  Italy,  shows  that  Buona- 
parte had  aroused  at  least  as  much  suspicion  as  admira- 
tion. It  runs  :  "  This  officer  is  general  of  artillery,  and 
in  this  arm  has  sound  knowledge,  but  has  somewhat  too 
much  ambition  and  intriguing  habits  for  his  advancement." 
All  things  considered,  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  transfer 
him  to  the  army  which  was  engaged  in  crushing  the  Ven- 
dean  revolt,  a  service  which  he  loathed  and  was  deter- 
mined, if  possible,  to  evade.  Accompanied  by  his  faithful 
friends,  Marmont  and  Junot,  as  also  by  his  young  brother 
Louis,  he  set  out  for  Paris  (May,  1795). 

In  reality  Fortune  never  favoured  him  more  than 
when  she  removed  him  from  the  coteries  of  intriguing 
Corsicans  on  the  coast  of  Provence  and  brought  him  to 
the  centre  of  all  influence.  An  able  schemer  at  Paris 
could  decide  the  fate  of  parties  and  governments.  At  the 
frontiers  men  could  only  accept  the  decrees  of  the  om- 
nipotent capital.  Moreover,  the  Revolution,  after  passing 
through  the  molten  stage,  was  now  beginning  to  solidify, 
an  important  opportunity  for  the  political  craftsman.  The 
spring  of  the  year  1795  witnessed  a  strange  blending  of  the 
new  fanaticism  with  the  old  customs.  Society,  dammed 
up  for  a  time  by  the  Spartan  rigour  of  Robespierre,  was 
now  flowing  back  into  its  wonted  channels.  Gay  equi- 
pages were  seen  in  the  streets  ;  theatres,  prosperous  even 
during  the  Terror,  were  now  filled  to  overflowing  ;  gam- 
bling, whether  in  money  or  in  stocks  and  assignatSj  was 
now  permeating  all  grades  of  society  ;  and  men  who  had 
grown  rich  by  amassing  the  confiscated  State  lands  now 
vied  with  bankers,  stock-jobbers,  and  forestallers  of  grain 
in  vulgar  ostentation.  As  for  the  poor,  they  were  meet- 
ing their  match  in  the  gilded  youth  of  Paris,  who  with 
clubbed  sticks  asserted  the  right  of  the  rich  to  be  merry. 
If  the  sansculottes  attempted  to  restore  the  days  of  the 
Terror,   the   National   Guards  of    Paris   were   ready   to 


re 


VEND^MIAIRE  67 


sweep  them  back  into  the  slums.  Such  was  their  fate 
on  May  20th,  shortly  after  Buonaparte's  arrival  at  Paris. 
Any  dreams  which  he  may  have  harboured  of  restoring 
the  Jacobins  to  power  were  dissipated,  for  Paris  now 
plunged  into  the  gaieties  of  the  ancien  rSgime,  The 
Terror  was  remembered  only  as  a  horrible  nightmare, 
which  served  to  add  zest  to  the  pleasures  of  the  present. 
In  some  circles  no  one  was  received  who  had  not  lost  a 
relative  by  the  guillotine.  With  a  ghastly  merriment 
characteristic  of  the  time,  "  victim  balls "  were  given,  to 
which  those  alone  were  admitted  who  could  produce  the 
death  warrant  of  some  family  connection  :  these  secured 
the  pleasure  of  dancing  in  costumes  which  recalled  those 
of  the  scaffold,  and  of  beckoning  ever  and  anon  to  their 
partners  with  nods  that  simulated  the  fall  of  the  severed 
head.  It  was  for  this,  then,  that  the  amiable  Louis,  the 
majestic  Marie  Antoinette,  the  Minervarlike  Madame 
Roland,  the  Girondins  vowed  to  the  utter  quest  of  liberty, 
the  tyrant-quelling  Dantori,  the  incorruptible  Robespierre 
himself,  had  felt  the  fatal  axe  ;  in  order  that  the  mimicry 
of  their  death  agonies  might  tickle  jaded  appetites,  and 
help  to  weave  anew  the  old  Circean  spells.  So  it  seemed 
to  the  few  who  cared  to  think  of  the  frightful  sacrifices  of 
the  past,  and  to  measure  them  against  the  seemingly  hope- 
less degradation  of  the  present. 

Some  such  thoughts  seem  to  have  flitted  across  the  mind 
of  Buonaparte  in  those  months  of  forced  inactivity.  It 
was  a  time  of  disillusionment.  Rarely  do  we  find  thence- 
forth in  his  correspondence  any  gleams  of  faith  respecting 
the  higher  possibilities  of  the  human  race.  The  golden 
visions  of  youth  now  vanish  along  with  the  honriet  rouge 
and  the  jargon  of  the  Terror.  His  bent  had  ever  been 
for  the  material  and  practical :  and  now  that  faith  in  the 
Jacobinical  creed  was  vanishing,  it  was  more  than  ever 
desirable  to  grapple  that  errant  balloon  to  substantial  facts. 
Evidently,  the  Revolution  must  now  trust  to  the  clinging 
of  the  peasant  proprietors  to  the  recently  confiscated  lands 
of  the  Church  and  of  the  emigrant  nobles.  If  all  else  was 
vain  and  transitory,  here  surely  was  a  solid  basis  of  mate- 
rial interests  to  which  the  best  part  of  the  manhood  of 
France  would  tenaciously  adhere,  defying  alike  the  plots 


68  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap. 

of  reactionaries  and  the  forces  of  monarchical  Europe. 
Of  these  interests  Buonaparte  was  to  be  the  determined 
guarantor.  Amidst  much  that  was  visionary  in  his  later 
policy  he  never  wavered  in  his  championship  of  the  new 
peasant  proprietors.  He  was  ever  the  peasants'  General, 
the  peasants'  Consul,  the  peasants'  Emperor. 

The  transition  of  the  Revolution  to  an  ordinary  form  of 
polity  was  also  being  furthered  by  its  unparalleled  series  of 
military  triumphs.  When  Buonaparte's  name  was  as  yet 
unknown,  except  in  Corsica  and  Provence,  France  prac- 
tically gained  her  ^^  natural  boundaries,"  the  Rhine  and 
the  Alps.  In  the  campaigns  of  1793-4,  the  soldiers  of 
Pichegru,  Kleber,*  Hoche,  and  Moreau  overran  the  whole 
of  the  Low  Countries  and  chased  the  Germans  beyond  the 
Rhine ;  the  Piedmontese  were  thrust  behind  the  Alps ; 
the  Spaniards  behind  the  Pyrenees.  In  quick  succession 
State  after  State  sued  for  peace :  Tuscany  in  February, 
1795 ;  Prussia  in  April ;  Hanover,  Westphalia,  and  Saxony 
in  May  ;  Spain  and  Hesse-Cassel  in  July ;  Switzerland  and 
Denmark  in  August. 

Such  was  the  state  of  France  when  Buonaparte  came  to 
seek  his  fortunes  in  the  Sphinx-like  capital.  His  artillery 
command  had  been  commuted  to  a  corresponding  rank  in 
the  infantry  —  a  step  that  deeply  incensed  him.  He  at- 
tributed it  to  malevolent  intriguers ;  but  all  his  efforts 
to  obtain  redress  were  in  vain.  Lacking  money  and  pat- 
ronage, known  only  as  an  able  officer  and  facile  intriguer 
of  the  bankrupt  Jacobinical  party,  he  might  well  have 
despaired.  He  was  now  almost  alone.  Marmont  had 
gone  off  to  the  Army  of  the  Rhine ;  but  Junot  was  still 
with  him,  allured  perhaps  by  Madame  Pennon's  daughter, 
whom  he  subsequently  married.  At  the  house  of  this 
amiable  hostess,  an  old  friend  of  his  family,  Buonaparte 
found  occasional  relief  from  the  gloom  of  his  existence. 
The  future  Madame  Junot  has  described  him  as  at  this 
time  untidy,  unkempt,  sickly,  remarkable  for  his  extreme 
thinness  and  the  almost  yellow  tint  of  his  visage,  which 
was,  however,  lit  up  by  "  two  eyes  sparkling  with  keen- 
ness and  will-power  "  —  evidently  a  Corsican  falcon,  pining 
for  action,  and  fretting  its  soaring  spirit  in  that  vapid  town 
life.     Action  Buonaparte  might  have  had,  but  only  of  a 


lY  VENDllMIAIRE  69 

kind  that  he  loathed.  He  might  have  commanded  the 
troops  destined  to  crush  the  brave  royalist  peasants  of 
La  Vendee.  But,  whether  from  scorn  of  such  vulture- 
work,  or  from  an  instinct  that  a  nobler  quarry  might  be 
started  at  Paris,  he  refused  to  proceed  to  the  Army  of  the 
West,  and  on  the  plea  of  ill-health  remained  in  the  capital. 
There  he  spent  his  time  deeply  pondering  on  politics  and 
strategy.  He  designed  a  history  of  the  last  two  years, 
and  drafted  a  plan  of  campaign  for  the  Army  of  Italy, 
which,  later  on,  was  to  bear  him  to  fortune.  Probably 
the  geographical  insight  which  it  displayed  may  have  led 
to  his  appointment  (August  21st,  1795)  to  the  topographi- 
cal bureau  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety.  His  first 
thought  on  hearing  of  this  important  advancement  was 
that  it  opened  up  an  opportunity  for  proceeding  to  Turkey 
to  organize  the  artillery  of  the  Sultan ;  and  in  a  few  days 
he  sent  in  a  formal  request  to  that  effect — the  first  tangi- 
ble proof  of  that  yearning  after  the  Orient  which  haunted 
him  all  through  life.  But,  while  straining  his  gaze  east- 
wards, he  experienced  a  sharp  rebuff.  The  Committee 
was  on  the  point  of  granting  his  request,  when  an  exami- 
nation of  his  recent  conduct  proved  him  guilty  of  a  breach 
of  discipline  in  not  proceeding  to  his  Vendean  command. 
On  the  very  day  when  one  department  of  the  Committee 
empowered  him  to  proceed  to  Constantinople,  the  Central 
Committee  erased  his  name  from  the  list  of  general  officers 
(September  15th), 

This  time  the  blow  seemed  fatal.  But  Fortune  appeared 
to  compass  his  falls  only  in  order  that  he  might  the  more 
brilliantly  tower  aloft.  Within  three  weeks  he  was  hailed 
as  the  saviour  of  the  new  republican  constitution.  The 
cause  of  this  almost  magical  change  in  his  prospects  is  to 
be  sought  in  the  political  unrest  of  France,  to  which  we 
must  now  briefly  advert. 

All  through  this  summer  of  1795  there  were  conflicts 
between  Jacobins  and  royalists.  In  the  south  the  latter 
party  had  signally  avenged  itself  for  the  agonies  of  the 
preceding  years,  and  the  ardour  of  the  French  tempera- 
ment seemed  about  to  drive  that  hapless  people  from  the 
**  Red  Terror  "  to  a  veritable  "  White  Terror,"  when  two 
disasters  checked  the  course  of  the  reaction.     An  attempt 


eo  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

of  a  large  force  of  emigrant  French  nobles,  backed  up  by 
British  money  and  ships,  to  rouse  Brittany  against  the  Con- 
vention was  utterly  crushed  by  the  able  young  Hoche ;  and 
nearly  seven  hundred  prisoners  were  afterwards  shot  down 
in  cold  blood  (July).  Shortly  before  this  blow,  the  little 
prince  styled  Louis  XVII.  succumbed  to  the  brutal  treat- 
ment of  his  gaolers  at  the  Temple  in  Paris  ;  and  the  hopes 
of  the  royalists  now  rested  on  the  unpopular  Comte  de 
Provence.  Nevertheless,  the  political  outlook  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1795  was  not  reassuring  to  the  republicans ;  and 
the  Commission  of  Eleven,  empowered  by  the  Convention 
to  draft  new  organic  laws,  drew  up  an  instrument  of  gov- 
ernment, which,  though  republican  in  form,  seemed  to  offer 
all  the  stability  of  the  most  firmly  rooted  oligarchy.  Some 
such  compromise  was  perhaps  necessary ;  for  the  common- 
wealth was  confronted  by  three  dangers :  anarchy  resulting 
from  the  pressure  of  the  mob,  an  excessive  centralization 
of  power  in  the  hands  of  two  committees,  and  the  possi- 
bility of  a  coup  (TStat  by  some  pretender  or  adventurer. 
Indeed,  the  student  of  French  history  cannot  fail  to  see 
that  this  is  the  problem  which  is  ever  before  the  people  of 
France.  It  has  presented  itself  in  acute  though  diverse 
phases  m  1797,  1799,  1814,  1830,  1848,  1851,  and  in  1871. 
Who  can  say  that  the  problem  has  yet  found  its  complete 
solution  ? 

In  some  respects  the  constitution  which  the  Convention 
voted  in  August,  1795,  was  skilfully  adapted  to  meet  the 
needs  of  the  time.  Though  democratic  in  spirit,  it  granted 
a  vote  only  to  those  citizens  who  had  resided  for  a  year  in 
some  dwelling  and  had  paid  taxes,  thus  excluding  the 
rabble  who  haS  proved  to  be  dangerous  to  any  settled  gov- 
ernment. It  also  checked  the  hasty  legislation  which  had 
brought  ridicule  on  successive  National  Assemblies.  In 
order  to  moderate  the  zeal  for  the  manufacture  of  decrees, 
which  had  often  exceeded  one  hundred  a  month,  a  second 
or  revising  chamber  was  now  to  be  formed  on  the  basis  of 
age  ;  for  it  had  been  found  that  the  younger  the  deputies 
the  faster  came  forth  the  fluttering  flocks  of  decrees,  that 
often  came  home  to  roost  in  the  guise  of  curses.  A  sena- 
torial guillotine,  it  was  now  proposed,  should  thin  out  the 
fledglings  before  they  flew  abroad  at  all.     Of  the  seven 


IV 


VENDilMIAIRE  61 


hondred  and  fifty  deputies  of  France,  the  two  hundred  and 
fifty  oldest  men  were  to  form  the  Council  of  Ancients,  hav- 
ing powers  to  amend  or  reject  the  proposals  emanating  from 
the  Council  of  Five  Hundred.  In  this  Council  were  the 
younger  deputies,  and  with  them  rested  the  sole  initiation 
of  laws.  Thus  the  young  deputies  were  to  make  the  laws, 
but  the  older  deputies  were  to  amend  or  reject  them  ;  and 
this  nice  adjustment  of  the  characteristics  of  youth  and 
age,  a  due  blending  of  enthusiasm  with  caution,  promised  to 
invigorate  the  body  politic  and  yet  guard  its  vital  inter- 
ests. Lastly,  in  order  that  the  two  Councils  should  con- 
tinuously represent  the  feelings  of  France,  one  third  of 
their  members  must  retire  for  a  re-election  every  year,  a 
device  which  promised  to  prevent  any  violent  change  in 
their  composition,  such  as  might  occur  if,  at  the  end  of 
their  three  years'  membership,  all  were  called  upon  to  re- 
sign at  once. 

But  the  real  crux  of  constitution  builders  had  hitherto 
been  in  the  relations  of  the  Legislature  to  the  Executive. 
How  should  the  brain  of  the  body  politic,  that  is,  the 
Legislature,  be  connected  with  the  hand,  that  is,  the 
Executive  ?  Obviously,  so  argued  all  French  political 
thinkers,  the  two  functions  were  distinct  and  must  be 
kept  separate.  The  results  of  this  theory  of  the  separa- 
tion of  powers  were  clearly  traceable  in  the  course  oi  the 
Revolution.  When  the  hand  had  been  left  almost  power- 
less, as  in  1791-2,  owing  to  democratic  jealousy  of  the 
royal  Ministry,  the  result  had  been  anarchy.  The  su- 
preme needs  of  the  State  in  the  agonies  of  1793  had 
rendered  the  hand  omnipotent :  the  Convention,  that  is, 
the  brain,  was  for  some  time  powerless  before  its  own 
instrument,  the  two  secret  committees.  Experience  now 
showed  that  the  brain  must  exercise  a  general  control 
over  the  hand,  without  unduly  hampering  its  actions. 
Evidently,  then,  the  deputies  of  France  must  intrust  the 
details  of  administration  to  responsible  Ministers,  though 
some  directing  agency  seemed  needed  as  a  spur  to  energy 
and  a  check  against  royalist  plots.  In  brief,  the  Commit- 
tee of  Public  Safety,  purged  of  its  more  dangerous  powers, 
was  to  furnish  the  model  for  a  new  body  of  five  members, 
termed  the  Directory.     This  organism,  which  was  to  give 


62  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

its  name  to  the  whole  period  1795-1799,  was  not  the  Min- 
istry. There  was  no  Ministry  as  we  now  use  the  term. 
There  were  Ministers  who  were  responsible  individually 
for  their  departments  of  State  :  but  they  never  met  for 
deliberation,  or  communicated  with  the  Legislature ;  they 
were  only  heads  of  departments,  who  were  responsible 
individually  to  the  Directors.  These  five  men  formed  a 
powerful  committee,  deliberating  in  private  on  the  whole 
policy  of  the  State  and  on  all  the  work  of  the  Ministers. 
The  Directory  had  not,  it  is  true,  the  right  of  initiating 
laws  and  of  arbitrary  arrest  which  the  two  committees  had 
freely  exercised  during  the  Terror.  Its  dependence  *  on 
the  Legislature  seemed  also  to  be  guaranteed  by  the  Di- 
rectors being  appointed  by  the  two  legislative  Councils  ; 
while  one  of  the  five  was  to  vacate  his  oflBce  for  re-election 
every  year.  But  in  other  respects  the  directorial  powers 
were  almost  as  extensive  as  those  wielded  by  the  two 
secret  committees,  or  as  those  which  Buonaparte  was  to 
inherit  from  the  Directory  in  1799.  They  comprised  the 
general  control  of  policy  in  peace  and  war,  the  right  to 
negotiate  treaties  (subject  to  ratification  by  the  legislative 
councils),  to  promulgate  laws  voted  by  the  Councils  and 
watch  over  their  execution,  and  to  appoint  or  dismiss  the 
Ministers  of  State. 

Such  was  the  constitution  which  was  proclaimed  on 
September  22nd,  1795,  or  1st  Vendemiaire,  Year  IV.,  of 
the  revolutionary  calendar.  An  important  postscript  to 
the  original  constitution  now  excited  fierce  commotions 
which  enabled  the  young  oflScer  to  repair  his  own  shat- 
tered fortunes.  The  Convention,  terrified  at  the  thought  of 
a  general  election,  which  might  send  up  a  malcontent  or 
royalist  majority,  decided  to  impose  itself  on  France  for  at 
least  two  years  longer.  With  an  effrontery  unparalleled  in 
parliamentary  annals,  it  decreed  that  the  law  of  the  new 
constitution,  requiring  the  re-election  of  one-third  of  the 
deputies  every  year,  should  now  be  applied  to  itself  ;  and 
that  the  rest  of  its  members  should  sit  in  the  forthcoming 
Councils.  At  once  a  cry  of  disgust  and  rage  arose  from 
all  who  were  weary  of  the  Convention  and  all  its  works. 
"  Down  with  the  two-thirds  I  "  was  the  cry  that  resounded 
through  the  streets  of  Paris.     The  movement  was  not  so 


IV 


vend£:miaire  es 


much  definitely  royalist  as  vaguely  malcontent.  The  many 
were  enraged  by  the  existing  dearth  and  by  the  failure  of 
the  Revolution  to  secure  even  cheap  bread.  Doubtless  the 
royalists  strove  to  drive  on  the  discontent  to  the  desired 
goal,  and  in  many  parts  they  tinged  the  movement  with  an 
unmistakably  Bourbon  tint.  But  it  is  fairly  certain  that 
in  Paris  they  could  not  alone  have  fomented  a  discontent 
so  general  as  that  of  Vendemiaire.  That  they  would  have 
profited  by  the  defeat  of  the  Convention  is,  however, 
equally  certain.  The  history  of  the  Revolution  proves 
that  those  who  at  first  merely  opposed  the  excesses  of  the 
Jacobins  gradually  drifted  over  to  the  royalists.  The  Con- 
vention now  found  itself  attacked  in  the  very  city  which 
had  been  the  chosen  abode  of  Liberty  and  Equality.  Some 
thirty  thousand  of  the  Parisian  National  Guards  were  de- 
termined to  give  short  shrift  to  this  Assembly  that  clung 
so  indecently  to  life  ;  and  as  the  armies  were  far  away,  the 
Parisian  malcontents  seamed  masters  of  the  situation. 
Without  doubt  they  would  have  been  but  for  their  own 
precipitation  and  the  energy  of  Buonaparte. 

But  how  came  he  to  receive  the  military  authority  which 
was  so  potently  to  influence  the  course  of  events?  We 
left  him  in  Fructidor  disgraced  :  we  find  him  in  the  middle 
of  Vendemiaire  leading  part  of  the  forces  of  the  Conven- 
tion. This  bewildering  change  was  due  to  the  pressing 
needs  of  the  Republic,  to  his  own  signal  abilities,  and  to  the 
discerning  eye  of  Barras,  whose  career  claims  a  brief  notice. 

Paul  Barras  came  of  a  Provencal  family,  and  had  an 
adventurous  life  both  on  land  and  in  maritime  expeditions. 
Gifted  with  a  robust  frame,  consummate  self-assurance,  and 
a  ready  tongue,  he  was  well  equipped  for  intrigues,  both 
amorous  and  political,  when  the  outbreak  of  the  Revolu- 
tion gave  his  thoughts  a  more  serious  turn.  Espousing 
the  ultra-democratic  side,  he  yet  contrived  to  emerge  un- 
scathed from  the  schisms  which  were  fatal  to  less  dextrous 
trimmers.  He  was  present  at  the  siege  of  Toulon,  and 
has  striven  in  his  "  Memoires  "  to  disparage  Buonaparte's 
services  and  exalt  his  own.  At  the  crisis  of  Thermidor 
the  Convention  intrusted  him  with  the  command  of  the 
"  army  of  the  interior,"  and  the  energy  which  he  then  dis- 
played gained  for  him  the  same  position  in  the  equally 


64  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ghaf. 

critical  days  of  Vendemiaire.  Though  he  subsequently 
carped  at  the  conduct  of  Buonaparte,  his  action  proved  his 
complete  confidence  in  that  young  officer's  capacity  :  he  at 
once  sent  for  him,  and  intrusted  him  with  most  important 
duties.  Herein  lies  the  chief  chance  of  immortality  for 
the  name  of  Barras ;  not  that,  as  a  terrorist,  he  slaughtered 
royalists  at  Toulon  ;  not  that  he  was  the  military  chief  of 
the  Thermidorians,  who,  from  fear  of  their  own  necks, 
ended  the  supremacy  of  Robespierre  ;  not  even  that  he 
degraded  the  new  rSgime  by  a  cynical  display  of  all  the 
worst  vices  of  the  old ;  but  rather  because  he  was  now 
privileged  to  hold  the  stirrup  for  the  great  captain  who 
vaulted  lightly  into  the  saddle. 

The  present  crisis  certainly  called  for  a  man  of  skill  and 
determination.  The  malcontents  had  been  emboldened  by 
the  timorous  actions  of  General  Menou,  who  had  previously 
been  intrusted  with  the  task  of  suppressing  the  agitation. 
Owing  to  a  praiseworthy  desire  to  avoid  bloodshed,  that 
general  wasted  time  in  parleying  with  the  most  rebellious 
of  the  "sections"  of  Paris.  The  Convention  now  ap- 
pointed Barras  to  the  command,  while  Buonaparte,  Brune, 
Carteaux,  Dupont,  Loison,  Vachot,  and  Vezu  were  charged 
to  serve  under  him.^  Such  was  the  decree  of  the  Conven- 
tion, which  therefore  refutes  Napoleon's  later  claim  that 
he  was  in  command,  and  that  of  his  admirers  that  he  was 
second  in  command.  Yet,  intrusted  from  the  outset  by 
Barras  with  important  duties,  he  unquestionably  became 
the  animating  spirit  of  the  defence.  "From  the  first," 
says  Thiebault,  "  his  activity  was  astonishing :  he  seemed 
to  be  everywhere  at  once :  he  surprised  people  by  his  la- 
conic, clear,  and  prompt  orders  :  everybody  was  struck  by 
the  vigour  of  his  arrangements,  and  passed  from  admi- 
ration to  confidence,  from  confidence  to  enthusiasm." 
Everything  now  depended  on  skill  and  enthusiasm.  The 
defenders  of  the  Convention,  comprising  some  four  or  five 
thousand  troops  of  the  line,  and  between  one  and  two 
thousand  patriots,  gendarmes,  and  Invalides,  were   con- 


1  M.  Zivy,  "Le  treize  Vendemiaire,"  pp.  60-62,  quotes  the  decree 
signing  the  different  commands.  A  MS.  written  by  Buonaparte,  now  in 
the  French  War  Office  Archives,  proves  also  that  it  was  Barras  who  gave 
the  order  to  letch  the  camion  from  the  Sablons  camp. 


IT 


V£ND]fi:MIAIRE  66 


fronted  by  nearly  thirty  thousand  National  Guards.  The 
odds  were  therefore  wellnigh  as  heavy  as  those  which 
menaced  Louis  XVI.  on  the  day  of  his  final  overthrow.  But 
the  place  of  the  yielding  king  was  now  filled  by  determined 
men,  who  saw  the  needs  of  the  situation.  In  the  earlier 
scenes  of  the  Revolution,  Buonaparte  had  pondered  on  the 
eflScacy  of  artillery  in  street-fighting  —  a  fit  subject  for  his 
geometrical  genius.  With  a  few  cannon,  he  knew  that  he 
could  sweep  all  the  approaches  to  the  palace ;  and,  on 
Barras'  orders,  he  despatched  a  dashing  cavalry  officer, 
Murat — a  name  destined  to  become  famous  from  Madrid 
to  Moscow  —  to  bring  the  artillery  from  the  neighbouring 
camp  of  Sablons.  Murat  secured  them  before  the  malcon- 
tents of  Paris  could  lay  hands  on  them  ;  and  as  the  ^^  sec- 
tions "  of  Paris  had  yielded  up  their  own  cannon  after  the 
afPrays  of  May,  they  now  lacked  the  most  potent  force  in 
street-fighting.  Their  actions  were  also  paralyzed  by 
divided  counsels  :  their  commander,  an  old  general  named 
Danican,  moved  his  men  hesitatingly  ;  he  wasted  precious 
minutes  in  parleying,  and  thus  gave  time  to  Barras'  small 
but  compact  force  to  fight  them  in  detail.  Buonaparte 
had  skilfully  disposed  his  cannon  to  bear  on  the  royalist 
colunms  that  threatened  the  streets  north  of  the  Tuileries. 
But  for  some  time  the  two  parties  stood  face  to  face,  seek- 
ing to  cajole  or  intimidate  one  another.  As  the  autumn 
afternoon  waned,  shots  were  fired  from  some  houses  near 
the  church  of  St.  Roch,  where  the  malcontents  had  their 
headquarters.^  At  once  the  streets  became  the  scene  of 
a  furious  fight ;  furious  but  unequal ;  for  Buonaparte's 
cannon  tore  away  the  heads  of  the  malcontent  columns. 
In  vain  did  the  royalists  pour  in  their  volleys  from  behind 
barricades,  or  from  the  neighbouring  houses  ;  finally  they 
retreated  on  the  barricaded  church,  or  fled  down  the  Rue 
St.  Honore.  Meanwhile  their  bands  from  across  the  river, 
5,000  strong,  were  filing  across  the  bridges,  and  menaced 
the  Tuileries  from  that  side,  until  here  also  they  melted 
away  before  the  grapeshot  and  musketry  poured  into  their 
front  and  flank.  By  six  o'clock  the  conflict  was  over. 
The  fight  presents  few,  if  any,  incidents  which  are  authen- 

1  Baonaparte  afterwards  asserted  that  it  was  he  who  had  given  the 
order  to  fire,  and  certainly  delay  was  all  in  favour  of  hi^  opponents. 


66  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap. 

tic.  The  well-known  engraving  of  Helman,  which  shows 
Buonaparte  directing  the  storming  of  the  church  of  St. 
Roch  is  unfortunately  quite  incorrect.  He  was  not  engaged 
there,  but  in  the  streets  further  east :  the  church  was  not 
stormed :  the  malcontents  held  it  all  through  the  night, 
and  quietly  surrendered  it  next  morning. 

Such  was  the  great  day  of  Vendemiaire.  It  cost  the 
lives  of  about  two  hundred  on  each  side  ;  at  least,  that  is 
the  usual  estimate,  which  seems  somewhat  incongruous 
with  the  stories  of  fusillading  and  cannonading  at  close 
quarters,  until  we  remember  that  it  is  the  custom  of  me- 
moir writers  and  newspaper  editors  to  trick  out  the  details 
of  a  fight,  and  in  the  case  of  civil  warfare  to  minimize  the 
bloodshed.  Certainly  the  Convention  acted  with  clem- 
ency in  the  hour  of  victory  :  two  only  of  the  rebel  leaders 
were  put  to  death ;  and  it  is  pleasing  to  remember  that 
when  Menou  was  charged  with  treachery,  Buonaparte  used 
his  influence  to  procure  his  freedom. 

Bourrienne  states  that  in  his  later  days  the  victor  deeply 
regretted  his  action  in  this  day  of  Vendemiaire.  The 
assertion  seems  incredible.  The  "whiff  of  grapeshot" 
crushed  a  movement  which  could  have  led  only  to  present 
anarchy,  and  probably  would  have  brought  France  back  to 
royalism  of  an  odious  type.  It  taught  a  severe  lesson  to 
a  fickle  populace  which,  according  to  Mme.  de  Stael,  was 
hungering  for  the  spoils  of  place  as  much  as  for  any  polit- 
ical object.  Of  all  the  events  of  his  post-Corsican  life, 
Buonaparte  need  surely  never  have  felt  compunctions  for 
Vendemiaire.^ 

After  four  signal  reverses  in  his  career,  he  now  enters 
on  a  path  strewn  with  glories.  The  first  reward  for  his 
signal  services  to  the  Republic  was  his  appointment  to  be 
second  in  command  of  the  army  of  the  interior ;  and  when 
Barras  resigned  the  first  command,  he  took  that  responsible 
post.  But  more  brilliant  honours  were  soon  to  follow,  the 
first  of  a  social  character,  the  second  purely  military. 

1 1  caution  readers  against  accepting  the  statement  of  Carlyle  (**  French 
ReTolution,*'  yol.  iii.  ad  fin,)  that  *Hhe  thing  we  specifically  call  French 
Revolation  is  blown  into  space  by  the  whiff  of  grapeshot."  On  the  con- 
trary, it  was  perpetuated,  though  in  a  more  organic  and  more  orderly 
governmental  form. 


IV 


VEND^MIAIRE  67 


Buonaparte  had  already  appeared  timidly  and  awkwardly 
at  the  salon  of  the  voluptaous  Barras,  where  the  fair  but 
frail  Madame  Tallien — Notre  Dame  de  Thermidor  she  was 
styled  —  dazzled  Parisian  society  by  her  classic  features 
and  the  uncinctured  grace  of  her  attire.  There  he  reap- 
peared, not  in  the  threadbare  uniform  that  had  attracted 
the  giggling  notice  of  that  giddy  throng,  but  as  the  lion 
of  the  society  which  his  talents  had  saved.  His  previous 
attempts  to  gain  the  hand  of  a  lady  had  been  unsuccessful. 
He  had  been  refused,  first  by  Mile.  Clary,  sister  of  his 
brother  Joseph's  wife,  and  quite  recently  by  Madame  Per- 
mon.  Indeed,  the  scarecrow  young  officer  had  not  been  a 
brilliant  match.  But  now  he  saw  at  that  salon  a  charming 
widow,  Josephine  de  Beauharnais,  whose  husband  had  per- 
ished in  the  Terror.  The  ardour  of  his  southern  tempera- 
ment, long  repressed  by  his  privations,  speedily  rekindles 
in  her  presence :  his  stiff,  awkward  manners  thaw  under 
her  smiles :  his  silence  vanishes  when  she  praises  his  mili- 
tary gifts  :  he  admires  her  tact,  her  sympathy,  her  beauty : 
he  determines  to  marry  her.  The  lady,  on  her  part,  seems 
to  have  been  somewhat  terrified  by  her  uncanny  wooer :  she 
comments  questioningly  on  his  ^^  violent  tenderness  almost 
amounting  to  frenzy  " :  she  notes  uneasily  his  ^^  keen  inex- 
plicable gaze  which  imposes  even  on  our  Directors  " :  how 
would  this  eager  nature,  this  masterful  energy,  consort 
with  her  own  "Creole  nonchalance"?  She  did  well  to 
ask  herself  whether  the  general's  almost  volcanic  passion 
would  not  soon  exhaust  itself,  and  turn  from  her  own  fad- 
ing charms  to  those  of  women  who  were  his  equals  in  age. 
Besides,  when  she  frankly  asked  her  own  heart,  she  found 
that  she  loved  him  not :  she  only  admired  him.  Her  chief 
consolation  was  that  if  she  married  him,  her  friend  Barras 
would  help  to  gain  for  Buonaparte  the  command  of  the 
Army  of  Italy.  The  advice  of  Barras  undoubtedly  helped 
to  still  the  questioning  surmises  of  Josephine;  and  the 
wedding  was  celebrated,  as  a  civil  contract,  on  March  9th, 
1796.  With  a  pardonable  coquetry,  the  bride  entered  her 
age  on  the  register  as  four  years  less  than  the  thirty-four 
which  had  passed  over  her :  while  her  husband,  desiring 
still  further  to  lessen  the  disparity,  entered  his  date  of 
birth  as  1768, 


68  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

A  fortnight  before  the  wedding,  he  had  been  appointed 
to  command  the  Army  of  Italy :  and  after  a  honeymoon 
of  two  days  at  Paris,  he  left  his  bride  to  take  up  his  new 
military  doties.  Clearly,  then,  there  was  some  connec- 
tion between  this  brilliant  fortune  and  his  espousal  of 
Josephine.  But  the  assertion  that  this  command  was 
the  ^* dowry"  offered  by  Barras  to  the  somewhat  reluctant 
bride  is  more  piquant  than  correct.  That  the  brilliance 
of  Buonaparte's  prospects  finally  dissipated  her  scruples 
may  be  frankly  admitted.  But  the  appointment  to  a 
command  of  a  French  army  did  not  rest  with  Barras. 
He  was  only  one  of  the  five  Directors  who  now  decided 
the  chief  details  of  administration.  His  colleagues  were 
Letourneur,  Kewbell,  La  Reveilliere-Lepeaux,  and  the 
great  Camot ;  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  the  last- 
named  who  chiefly  decided  the  appointment  in  question. 
He  had  seen  and  pondered  over  the  plan  of  campaign 
which  Buonaparte  had  designed  for  the  Army  of  Italy ; 
and  the  vigour  of  the  conception,  the  masterly  apprecia- 
tion of  topographical  details  which  it  displayed,  and  the 
trenchant  energy  of  its  style  had  struck  conviction  to  his 
strategic  genius.  Buonaparte  owed  his  command,  not  to 
a  backstairs  intrigue,  as  was  currently  believed  in  the 
army,  but  rather  to  his  own  commanding  powers.  Dur- 
ing his  mission  to  Genoa  in  1794,  he  had  carefully  studied 
the  coast-line  and  the  passes  leading  inland ;  and,  accord- 
ing to  the  well-known  savant,  Volney,  the  young  officer, 
shortly  after  bis  release  from  imprisonment,  sketched  out 
to  him  and  to  a  Commissioner  of  the  Convention  the  de- 
tails of  the  very  plan  of  campaign  which  was  to  carry  him 
victoriously  from  the  Genoese  Riviera  into  the  heart  of 
Austria.^  While  describing  this  masterpiece  of  strategy, 
says  Volney,  Buonaparte  spoke  as  if  inspired.  We  can 
fancy  the  wasted  form  dilating  with  a  sense  of  power,  the 
thin  sallow  cheeks  aglow  with  enthusiasm,  the  hawk-like 
eyes  flashing  at  the  sight  of  the  helpless  Imperial  quarry, 
as  he  pointed  out  on  the  map  of  Piedmont  and  Lombardy 
the  features  which  would  favour  a  dashing  invader  and 
carry  him  to  the  very  gates  of  Vienna.  The  splendours 
of  the  Imperial  Court  at  the  Tuileries  seem  tawdry  and 

^  Chaptal,  **  Mes  Soayenirs  sar  Napolton,"  p.  196. 


From  DeliToche's 


"  Nnpiileoii  Meibls," 


vr 


VEKD^MIAIRE  60 


insipid  when  compared  with  the  intellectual  grandeur 
which  lit  up  that  humble  lodging  at  Nice  with  the  first 
rays  that  heralded  the  dawn  of  Italian  liberation. 

With  the  fuller  knowledge  which  he  had  recently 
acquired,  he  now,  in  January,  1796,  elaborated  this  plan  of 
campaign,  so  that  it  at  once  gained  Carnot's  admiration. 
The  Directors  forwarded  it  to  General  Scherer,  who  was 
in  command  of  the  Army  of  Italy,  but  promptly  received 
the  "brutal"  reply  that  the  man  who  had  drafted  the 
plan  ought  to  come  and  carry  it  out.  Long  dissatisfied 
with  Scherer's  inactivity  and  constant  complaints,  the 
Directory  now  took  him  at  his  word,  and  replaced  him 
by  Buonaparte.  Such  is  the  truth  about  Buonaparte's 
appointment  to  the  Army  of  Italy. 

To  Nice,  then,  the  young  general  set  out  (March  21st) 
accompanied,  or  speedily  followed,  by  his  faithful  friends, 
Marmont  and  Junot,  as  well  as  by  other  officers  of  whose 
energy  he  was  assured,  Berthier,  Murat,  and  Duroc. 
How  much  had  happened  since  th^  early  summer  of 
1795,  when  he  had  barely  the  means  to  pay  his  way  to 
Paris  !  A  sure  instinct  had  drawn  him  to  that  hot-bed 
of  intrigues.  He  had  played  a  desperate  game,  risking 
his  commission  in  order  that  he  might  keep  in  close  touch 
with  the  central  authority.  His  reward  for  this  almost 
superhuman  confidence  in  his  own  powers  was  correspond- 
ingly great ;  and  now,  though  he  knew  nothing  of  the 
handling  of  cavalry  and  infantry  save  from  books,  he 
determined  to  lead  the  Army  of  Italy  to  a  series  of  con- 
quests that  would  rival  those  of  Caesar.  In  presence  of  a 
will  so  stubborn  and  genius  so  fervid,  what  wonder  that  a 
friend  prophesied  that  his  halting-place  would  be  either 
the  throne  or  the  scaffold  ? 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN 
(1796) 

In  the  personality  of  Napoleon  nothing  is  more  remark- 
able than  the  combination  of  gifts  which  in  most  natures 
are  mutually  exclusive  ;  his  instincts  were  both  political 
and  military ;  his  survey  of  a  land  took  in  not  only  the 
geographical  environment  but  also  the  material  welfare  of 
the  people.  Facts,  which  his  foes  ignored,  offered  a  firm 
fulcrum  for  the  leverage  of  his  will :  and  their  political 
edifice  or  their  military  policy  crumbled  to  ruin  under  an 
assault  planned  with  consummate  skill  and  pressed  home 
with  relentless  force. 

For  the  exercise  of  all  these  gifts  what  land  was  so 
fitted  as  the  mosaic  of  States  which  was  dignified  with  the 
name  of  Italy  ? 

That  land  had  long  been  the  battle-ground  of  the 
Bourbons  and  the  Hapsburgs ;  and  their  rivalries,  aided 
by  civic  dissensions,  had  reduced  the  people  that  once  had 
given  laws  to  Europe  into  a  condition  of  miserable  weak- 
ness. Europe  was  once  the  battle-field  of  the  Romans : 
Italy  was  now  the  battle-field  of  Europe.  The  Haps- 
burgs dominated  the  north,  where  they  held  the  rich 
Duchy  of  Milan,  along  with  the  great  stronghold  of  Man- 
tua, and  some  scattered  imperial  fiefs.  A  scion  of  the 
House  of  Austria  reigned  at  Florence  over  the  prosperous 
Duchy  of  Tuscany.  Modena  and  Lucca  were  under  the 
general  control  of  the  Court  of  Vienna.  The  south  of 
the  peninsula,  along  with  Sicily,  was  swayed  by  Ferdi- 
nand IV.,  a  descendant  of  the  Spanish  Bourbons,  who  kept 
his  people  in  a  condition  of  mediaeval  ignorance  and  servi- 
tude ;  and  this  dynasty  controlled  the  Duchy  of  Parma. 
The  Papal  States  were  also  sunk  in  the  torpor  of  the 

70 


CHAP.  V  THE  ITALIAN  CABfPAION  71 

Middle  Ages ;  bat  in  the  northern  districts  of  Bologna 
and  Ferrara,  known  as  the  ^^  Legations/'  the  inhabitants 
still  remembered  the  time  of  their  independence,  and 
chafed  under  the  irritating  restraints  of  Papal  rule.  This 
was  seen  when  the  leaven  of  French  revolutionary  thought 
began  to  ferment  in  Italian  towns.  Two  young  men  of 
Bologna  were  so  enamoured  of  the  new  ideas,  as  to  raise 
an  Italian  tricolour  flag,  green,  white,  and  red,  and  sum- 
mon their  fellow-citizens  to  revolt  against  the  rule  of  the 
Pope's  legate  (November,  1794).  The  revolt  was  crushed, 
and  the  chief  offenders  were  hanged ;  but  elsewhere  the 
force  of  democracy  made  itself  felt,  especially  among  the 
more  virile  peoples  of  Northern  Italy.  Lombardy  and 
Piedmont  throbbed  with  suppressed  excitement.  Even 
when  the  King  of  Sardinia,  Victor  Amadeus  III.,  was 
waging  war  against  the  French  Republic,  the  men  of 
Turin  were  with  difficulty  feept  from  revolt ;  and,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  Austro-Sardinian  alliance  was  powerless  to 
recover  Savoy  and  Nice  from  the  soldiers  of  liberty  or  to 
guard  the  Italian  Riviera  from  invasion. 

In  fact,  Bonaparte  —  for  he  henceforth  spelt  his  name 
thus  —  detected  the  political  weakness  of  the  Hapsburgs' 
position  in  Italy.  Masters  of  eleven  distinct  peoples 
north  of  the  Alps,  how  could  they  hope  permanently  to 
dominate  a  wholly  alien  people  south  of  that  great  moun- 
tain barrier  ?  The  many  failures  of  the  old  GhibelUne  or 
Imperial  party  in  face  of  any  popular  impulse  which 
moved  the  Italian  nature  to  its  depths  revealed  the  arti- 
ficiality of  their  rule.  Might  not  such  an  impulse  be 
imparted  by  the  French  Revolution?  And  would  not 
the  hopes  of  national  freedom  and  of  emancipation  from 
feudal  imposts  fire  these  peoples  with  zeal  for  the  French 
cause  ?  Evidently  there  were  vast  possibilities  in  a  dem- 
ocratic propaganda.  At  the  outset  Bonaparte's  racial 
sympathies  were  warmly  aroused  for  the  liberation  of 
Italy ;  and  though  his  judgment  was  to  be  warped  by 
the  promptings  of  ambition,  he  never  lost  sight  of  the 
welfare  of  the  people  whence  he  was  descended.  In  his 
^^ Memoirs  written  at  St.  Helena"  he  summed  up  his 
convictions  respecting  the  Peninsula  in  this  statesman- 
like utterance  :  ^^  Italy,  isolated  within  its  natural  limits, 


72  THB  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap.  t 

separated  by  the  sea  and  by  very  high  moantains  from 
the  rest  of  Europe,  seems  called  to  be  a  great  and  power- 
ful nation.  •  .  .  Unity  in  manners,  language,  literature, 
ought  finally,  in  a  future  more  or  less  remote,  to  unite  its 
inhistbitants  under  a  single  government.  .  •  .  Rome  is 
beyond  doubt  the  capital  which  the  Italians  wiU  one  day 
choose."  A  prophetic  saying  :  it  came  from  a  man  who, 
as  conqueror  and  organizer,  awakened  that  people  from 
the  torpor  of  centuries  and  breathed  into  it  something  of 
his  own  indomitable  energy. 

And  then  &g&in,  the  Austrian  possessions  south  of  the 
Alps  were  difficult  to  hold  for  purely  military  reasons. 
They  were  separated  from  Vienna  by  difficult  mountain 
ranges  through  which  armies  struggled  with  difficulty. 
True,  Mantua  was  a  formidable  stronghold,  but  no  for- 
tress could  make  the  Milanese  other  than  a  weak  and 
straggling  territory,  the  retention  of  which  by  the  Court 
of  Vienna  was  a  defiance  to  the  gospel  of  nature  of  which 
Rousseau  was  the  herald  and  Bonaparte  the  militant 
exponent. 

The  Austro-Sardinian  forces  were  now  occupying  the 
pass  which  separates  the  Apennines  from  the  Maritime 
Alps  north  of  the  town  of  Savona.  They  were  accord- 
ingly near  the  headwaters  of  the  Bormida  and  the  Tanaro, 
two  of  the  chief  affluents  of  the  River  Po :  and  roads  fol- 
lowing those  river  valleys  led,  the  one  north-east,  in  the 
direction  of  Milan,  the  other  north-west  towards  Turin, 
the  Sardinian  capital.  A  wedge  of  mountainous  country 
separated  these  roads  as  they  diverged'from  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Montenotte.  Here  obviously  was  the  vulnerable 
point  of  the  Austro-Sardinian  position.  Here  therefore 
Bonaparte  purposed  to  deliver  his  first  strokes,  foreseeing 
that,  should  he  sever  the  allies,  he  would  have  in  his  favour 
every  advantage  both  political  and  topographical. 

All  this  was  possible  to  a  commander  who  could  over- 
come the  initial  difficulties.  But  these  difficulties  were 
enormous.  The  position  of  the  French  Army  of  Italy  in 
March,  1796,  was  precarious.  Its  detachments,  echelonned 
near  the  coast  from  Savona  to  Loano,  and  thence  to  Nice, 
or  inland  to  the  Col  di  Tenda,  comprised  in  all  42,000 
man,  as  against  the  Austro-Sardinian  forces  amounting  to 


74  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

52,000  men.^  Moreover,  the  allies  occupied  strong  posi- 
tions on  the  northern  slopes  of  the  Maritime  Alps  and 
Apennines,  and,  holding  the  inner  and  therefore  shorter 
curve,  they  could  by  a  dextrous  concentration  have  pushed 
their  more  widely  scattered  opponents  on  to  the  shore,  where 
the  republicans  would  have  been  harassed  by  the  guns  of 
the  British  cruisers.  Finally,  Bonaparte's  troops  were 
badly  equipped,  worse  clad,  and  were  not  paid  at  all.  On 
his  arrival  at  Nice  at  the  close  of  March,  the  young  com- 
mander had  to  disband  one  battalion  for  mutinous  conduct.^ 
For  a  brief  space  it  seemed  doubtful  how  the  army  would 
receive  this  slim,  delicate-looking  youth,  known  nitherto 
only  as  a  skilful  artillerist  at  Toulon  and  in  the  streets  of 
Paris.  But  he  speedily  gained  the  respect  and  confidence 
of  the  rank  and  file,  not  only  by  stern  punishment  of  the 
mutineers,  but  by  raising  money  from  a  local  banker,  so 
as  to  make  good  some  of  the  long  arrears  of  pay.  Other 
grievances  he  rectified  by  prompt  reorganization  of  the 
commissariat  and  kindred  departments.  But,  above  all,  by 
his  burning  words  he  thrilled  them :  "  Soldiers,  you  are 
half  starved  and  half  naked.  The  Government  owes  you 
much,  but  can  do  nothing  for  you.  Your  patience  and 
courage  are  honourable  to  you,  but  they  procure  you  neither 
advantage  nor  glory.  I  am  about  to  lead  you  into  the 
most  fertile  valleys  of  the  world :  there  you  will  find  flour- 
ishing cities  and  teeming  provinces :  there  you  will  reap 
honour,  glory,  and  riches.  Soldiers  of  the  Army  of  Italy, 
will  you  lack  courage  ?  "  Two  years  previously  so  open 
a  bid  for  the  soldiers'  allegiance  would  have  conducted 
any  French  commander  forthwith  to  the  guillotine.  But 
much  had  changed  since  the  days  of  Robespierre's  su- 
premacy ;  Spartan  austerity  had  vanished ;  and  the  former 
insane  jealousy  of  individual  pre-eminence  was  now  favour- 
ing a  startling  reaction  which  was  soon  to  install  the  one 
supremely  able  man  as  absolute  master  of  France. 

Bonaparte's  conduct  produced  a  deep  impression  alike  on 

^  Koch,  <'  M^moires  de  Mass^na,'*  vol.  ii.»  p.  13,  credits  the  French  with 
only  37,775  men  present  with  the  colours,  the  Austrians  with  32,000,  and 
the  Saidinians  with  20,000.  All  these  figures  omit  the  troops  in  garrison 
or  guarding  communications. 

3  Napoleon's  ''  Correspondence/'  March  28th,  1796. 


▼  THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN  76 

troops  and  officers.  From  Massena  his  energy  and  his  tren- 
chant orders  extorted  admiration:  and  the  tsdl  swaggering 
Augereau  shrank  beneath  the  intellectual  superiority  of  his 
gaze.  Moreover,  at  the  beg^nnine  of  April  the  French  re- 
ceived reinforcements  which  raised  their  total  to  49,300  men, 
and  gave  them  a  superiority  of  force ;  for  though  the  allies 
had  62,000,  yet  they  were  so  widely  scattered  as  to  be  infe- 
rior in  any  one  district.  Besides,  the  Austrian  commander, 
Beaulieu,  was  seventy-one  years  of  age,  had  only  just  been 
sent  into  Italy,  with  which  land  he  was  ill-acquainted,  and 
found  one-third  of  his  troops  down  with  sickness.^ 

Bonaparte  now  began  to  concentrate  his  forces  near 
Savona.  Fortune  favoured  him  even  before  the  cam- 
paign commenced.  The  snows  of  winter,  still  lying  on 
the  mountains,  though  thawing  on  the  southern  slopes, 
helped  to  screen  his  movements  from  the  enemy's  out- 
posts ;  and  the  French  vanguard  pushed  along  the  coast- 
line even  as  far  as  Voltri.  This  movement  was  designed 
to  coerce  the  Senate  of  Genoa  into  payment  of  a  fine  for 
its  acquiescence  in  the  seizure  of  a  French  vessel  by  a 
British  cruiser  within  its  neutral  roadstead  ;  but  it  served 
to  alarm  Beaulieu,  who,  breaking  up  his  cantonments, 
sent  a  strong  column  towards  that  city.  At  the  time 
this  circumstance  greatly  annoyed  Bonaparte,  who  had 
hoped  to  catch  the  Imperialists  dozing  in  their  winter 
quarters.  Yet  it  is  certain  that  the  hasty  move  of  their 
left  flank  towards  Voltri  largely  contributed  to  that 
brilliant  opening  of  Bonaparte's  campaign,  which  his 
admirers  have  generally  regarded  as  due  solely  to  his 
genius.^    For,  wen  Beaulieu  had  thrust  his  column  into 

1  See  my  articles  on  Colonel  Graham's  despatches  from  Italy  in  the 
^*£ng.  Hist.  Review"  of  January  and  April,  1899. 

s  ThoB  Mr.  Sargent  (*^ Bonaparte's  First  Campaign")  says  that  Bona- 
parte was  expecting  Beaulieu  to  move  on  Genoa,  and  saw  herein  a  chance 
of  crashing  the  Austrian  centre.  But  Bonaparte,  in  his  despatch  of 
April  6th  to  the  Directory,  referring  to  the  French  advance  towards 
Genoa,  writes  :  '*  J'ai  ^t6  trto  fftch^  et  extrSmement  m^ontent  de  ce 
mouvement  sur  G§nes,  d'autant  plus  d^plac^  qu'il  a  oblige  cette  r^publique 
k  prendre  une  attitude  hostile,  et  a  r^veill^  I'ennemi  que  j'aurais  pris 
tranquiUe :  ce  sont  des  hommes  de  plus  quMl  nous  en  content."  For  the 
question  how  far  Napoleon  was  indebted  to  Marshal  MaUlebois'  campaign 
of  1746  for  his  general  design,  see  the  brochure  of  M.  Pierron.  I  agree 
with  "  J.  G."  that  this  design  was  in  the  main  Napoleon's  own.  But  see 
Bouvier's  ^'Bonaparte  en  Italic,"  p.  197. 


76  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

the  broken  coast  district  between  Genoa  and  Voltri,  he 
severed  it  dangerously  far  from  his  centre,  which  marched 
up  the  valley  of  the  eastern  branch  of  the  Bormida  to 
occupy  the  passes  of  the  Apennines  north  of  Savona. 
This,  again,  was  by  no  means  in  close  touch  with  the 
Sardinian  allies  encamped  further  to  the  west  in  and  be- 
yond Ceva.  Beaulieu,  writing  at  a  later  date  to  Colonel 
Graham,  the  English  attaehS  at  his  headquarters,  ascribed 
his  first  disasters  to  Argenteau,  his  lieutenant  at  Monte- 
notte,  who  employed  only  a  third  of  the  forces  placed 
under  his  command.  But  division  of  forces  was  charac- 
teristic of  the  Austrians  in  all  their  operations,  and  they 
now  gave  a  fine  opportunity  to  any  enterprising  opponent 
who  should  crush  their  weak  and  unsupported  centre. 
In  obedience  to  orders  from  Vienna,  Beaulieu  assumed 
the  offensive ;  but  he  brought  his  chief  force  to  bear  on 
the  French  vanguard  at  Voltri,  which  he  drove  in  with 
some  loss.  While  he  was  occupying  Voltri,  the  boom  of 
cannon  echoing  across  the  mountains  warned  his  outposts 
that  the  real  campaign  was  opening  in  the  broken  country 
north  of  Savona.^  There  the  weak  Austrian  centre  had 
occupied  a  ridge  or  plateau  above  the  village  of  Monte- 
notte,  through  which  ran  the  road  leading  to  Alessandria 
and  Milan.  Argenteau's  attack  partly  succeeded ;  but 
the  stubborn  bravery  of  a  French  detachment  checked  it 
before  the  redoubt  which  commanded  the  southern  pro- 
longation of  the  heights  named  Monte-Legino.^ 

1  Nelson  was  then  endeavouring  to  cut  off  the  vessels  conveying  stores 
from  Toulon  to  the  French  forces.  The  following  extracts  from  his  de- 
spatches are  noteworthy.  January  6th,  1706  :  **  If  the  French  mean  to 
carry  on  the  war,  they  most  penetrate  into  Italy.  Holland  and  Flanders, 
with  their  own  country,  ^ey  have  entirely  stripped:  Italy  is  the  gold 
mine,  and  if  once  entered,  is  without  the  means  of  resistance. ''  Then  on 
April  28th,  after  Piedmont  was  overpowered  by  the  French :  "  We  Eng- 
lish have  to  regret  that  we  cannot  always  decide  the  fate  of  Empires  on 
the  Sea.*'  Again,  on  May  16th:  **I  very  much  believe  that  England, 
who  commenced  the  war  with  all  Europe  for  her  allies,  will  finish  it  by 
having  nearly  all  Europe  for  her  enemies." 

'  The  picturesque  story  of  the  commander  (who  was  not  Rampon, 
butFom^)  summoning  the  defenders  of  the  central  redoubt  to  swear 
on  their  colours  and  on  the  cannon  that  they  would  defend  it  to  the  death 
has  been  endlessly  repeated  by  historians.  But  the  documents  which 
furnish  the  only  authentic  details  show  that  there  was  in  the  redoubt  no 
cannon  and  no  flag.    Forney's  words  simply  were :  **  C'est  ici,  mes  amis, 


T  THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN  77 

Sach  was  the  position  of  affairs  when  Bonaparte  hurried 
up.  On  the  following  day  (April  12th),  massing  the 
French  columns  of  attack  under  cover  of  an  early  morn- 
ing mist,  he  moved  them  to  their  positions,  so  that  the 
first  struggling  rays  of  sunlight  revealed  to  the  astonished 
Austrians  the  presence  of  an  army  ready  to  crush  their 
front  and  turn  their  flanks.  For  a  time  the  Imperialists 
struggled  bravely  against  the  superior  forces  in  their 
front ;  but  when  Massena  pressed  round  their  right  wing, 
they  gave  way  and  beat  a  speedy  retreat  to  save  them- 
selves from  entire  capture.  Bonaparte  took  no  active 
share  in  the  battle  :  he  was,  very  properly,  intent  on  the 
wider  problem  of  severing  the  Austrians  from  their  allies, 
first  by  the  turning  movement  of  Massena,  and  then  by 
pouring  other  troops  into  the  gap  thus  made.  In  this  he 
entirely  succeeded.  The  radical  defects  in  the  Austrian 
dispositions  left  them  utterly  unable  to  withstand  the 
blows  which  he  now  showered  upon  them.  The  Sardinians 
were  too  far  away  on  the  west  to  help  Argenteau  in  his 
hour  of  need :  they  were  in  and  beyond  Ceva,  intent  on 
covering  the  road  to  Turin :  whereas,  as  Napoleon  him- 
self subsequently  wrote,  they  should  have  been  near 
enough  to  their  allies  to  form  one  powerful  army,  which, 
at  Dego  or  Montenotte,  would  have  defended  both  Turin 
and  Milan.  "United,  the  two  forces  would  have  been 
superior  to  the  French  army:  separated,  they  were  lost." 

The  configuration  of  the  ground  favoured  Bonaparte's 
plan  of  driving  the  Imperialists  down  the  valley  of  the 
Bormida  in  a  north-easterly  direction ;  and  the  natural 
desire  of  a  beaten  general  to  fall  back  towards  his  base  of 
supplies  also  impelled  Beaulieu  and  Argenteau  to  retire 
towards  Milan.  But  that  would  sever  their  connections 
with  the  Sardinians,  whose  base  of  supplies,  Turin,  lay  in 
a  north-westerly  direction. 

Bonaparte  therefore  hurled  his  forces  at  once  against 
the  Austrians  and  a  Sardinian  contingent  at  Millesimo, 
and  defeated  them,  Augereau's  division  cutting  off  the 
retreat  of  twelve  hundred  of  their  men  under  Provera. 

qn^il  faat  vaincre  ou  mourir '^  — sorely  much  grander  than  the  histrionic 
oath.  (See  '^M^moires  de  Massena,*'  vol.  ii.;  ^*  Pieces  Just.,'*  No.  3; 
also  BouTier,  op,  ctt.) 


78  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  cbat. 

Weakened  by  this  second  blow,  the  allies  fell  back  on  the 
intrenched  village  of  Dego.  Their  position  was  of  a 
strength  proportionate  to  its  strategic  importance  ;  for  its 
loss  would  completely  sever  all  connection  between  their 
two  main  armies  save  by  devious  routes  many  miles  in 
their  rear.  They  therefore  clung  desperately  to  the  six 
mamelons  and  redoubts  which  barred  the  valley  and  domi- 
nated some  of  the  neighbouring  heights.  Yet  such  was 
the  superiority  of  the  French  in  numbers  that  these  posi- 
tions were  speedily  turned  by  Massena,  whom  Bonaparte 
again  intrusted  with  the  movement  on  the  enemy's  flank 
and  rear.  A  strange  event  followed.  The  victors,  while 
pillaging  the  country  for  the  supplies  which  Bonaparte's 
sharpest  orders  failed  to  draw  from  the  magazines  and 
stores  on  the  sea-coast,  were  attacked  in  the  dead  of  night 
by  five  Austrian  battalions  that  had  been  ordered  up  to 
support  their  countrymen  at  Dego.  These,  after  straying 
among  the  mountains,  found  themselves  among  bands  of 
the  marauding  French,  whom  they  easily  scattered,  seizing 
Dego  itself.  Apprised  of  this  mishap,  Bonaparte  hurried 
up  more  troops  from  the  rear,  and  on  the  15th  recovered 
the  prize  which  had  so  nearly  been  snatched  from  his 
grasp.  Had  Beaulieu  at  this  time  thrown  all  his  forces  on 
the  French,  he  might  have  retrieved  his  first  misfortunes ; 
but  foresight  and  energy  were  not  to  be  found  at  the  Aus- 
trian headquarters :  the  surprise  at  Dego  was  the  work  of  a 
colonel ;  and  for  many  years  to  come  the  incompetence  of 
their  aged  commanders  was  to  paralyze  the  fine  fighting 
qualities  of  the  "white-coats."  In  three  confiicts  they 
had  been  outmanoeuvred  and  outnumbered,  and  drew  in 
their  shattered  columns  to  Acqui. 

The  French  commander  now  led  his  columns  westward 
against  the  Sardinians,  who  had  fallen  back  on  their  forti- 
fied camp  at  Ceva,  in  the  upper  valley  of  the  Tanaro. 
There  they  beat  ofiF  one  attack  of  the  French.  A  check 
in  front  of  a  strongly  intrenched  position  was  serious.  It 
might  have  led  to  a  French  disaster,  had  the  Austrians 
been  able  to  bring  aid  to  their  allies.  Bonaparte  even 
summoned  a  council  of  war  to  deliberate  on  the  situation. 
As  a  rule,  a  council  of  war  gives  timid  advice.  This  one 
strongly  advised  a  second  attack  on  the  camp  —  a  striking 


V  THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN  79 

proof  of  the  ardour  which  then  nerved  the  republicaa 
generals.  Not  yet  were  they  condottieri  carving  out  for- 
tunes by  their  swords  :  not  yet  were  they  the  pampered 
minions  of  an  autocrat,  intent  primarily  on  guarding  the 
estates  which  his  favour  had  bestowed.  Timidity  was 
rather  the  mark  of  their  opponents.  When  the  assault 
on  the  intrenchments  of  Ceva  was  about  to  be  renewed, 
the  Sardinian  forces  were  discerned  filing  away  westwards. 
Their  general  indulged  the  fond  hope  of  holding  the 
French  at  bay  at  several  strong  natural  positions  on  his 
march.  He  was  bitterly  to  rue  his  error.  The  French 
divisions  of  Serurier  and  Dommartin  closed  in  on  him, 
drove  him  from  Mondovi,  and  away  towards  Turin. 

Bonaparte  had  now  completely  succeeded.  Using  to 
the  full  the  advantage  of  his  central  position  between  the 
widely  scattered  detachments  of  his  foes,  he  had  struck 
vigorously  at  their  natural  point  of  junction,  Montenotte, 
and  by  three  subsequent  successes  —  for  the  evacuation  of 
Ceva  can  scarcely  be  called  a  French  victory  —  had  forced 
them  further  and  further  apart  until  Turin  was  almost 
within  his  power. 

It  now  remained  to  push  these  military  triumphs  to 
their  natural  conclusion,  and  impose  terms  of  peace  on 
the  House  of  Savoy,  which  was  secretly  desirous  of  peace. 
The  Directors  had  ordered  Bonaparte  that  he  should  seek 
to  detach  Sardinia  from  the  Austrian  alliance  by  holding 
out  the  prospect  of  a  valuable  compensation  for  the  loss 
of  Savoy  and  Nice  in  the  fertile  Milanese.^  The  prospect 
of  this  rich  prize  would,  the  Directors  surmised,  dissolve 
the  Austro-Sardinian  alliance,  as  soon  as  the  allies  had 
felt  the  full  vigour  of  the  French  arms.  Not  that  Bona- 
parte himself  was  to  conduct  these  negotiations.  He  was 
to  forward  to  the  Directory  all  offers  of  submission.  Nay, 
he  was  not  empowered  to  grant  on  his  own  responsibility 
even  an  armistice.  He  was  merely  to  push  the  foe  hard, 
and  feed  his  needy  soldiers  on  the  conquered  territory. 
He  was  to  be  solely  a  general,  never  a  negotiator. 

The  Directors  herein  showed  keen  jealousy  or  striking 
ignorance  of  military  aflfairs.  How  could  he  keep  the  Aus- 
trians  quiet  while  envoys  passed  between  Turin  and  Paris? 

1  Jomini,  vol.  viii.,  p.  340 ;  *»  Pieces  Justifa." 


80  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

All  the  dictates  of  common  sense  required  him  to  grant  an 
armistice  to  the  Court  of  Turin  before  the  Austrians  could 
recover  from  their  recent  disasters.  But  the  King  of  Sar- 
dinia drew  him  from  a  perplexing  situation  by  instructing 
Colli  to  make  overtures  for  an  armistice  as  preliminary  to 
a  peace.  At  once  the  French  commander  replied  that  such 
powers  belonged  to  the  Directory ;  but  as  for  an  armistice, 
it  would  only  be  possible  if  the  Court  of  Turin  placed  in 
his  hands  three  fortresses,  Coni,  Tortona,  and  Alessandria, 
besides  guaranteeing  the  transit  of  French  armies  through 
Piedmont  and  the  passage  of  the  Po  at  Valenza.  Then, 
with  his  unfailing  belief  in  accomplished  facts,  Bonaparte 
pushed  on  his  troops  to  Cherasco. 

Near  that  town  he  received  the  Piedmontese  envoys; 
and  from  the  pen  of  one  of  them  we  have  an  account  of 
the  general's  behaviour  in  his  first  essay  in  diplomacy. 
His  demeanour  was  marked  by  that  grave  and  frigid 
courtesy  which  was  akin  to  Piedmontese  customs.  In 
reply  to  the  suggestions  of  the  envoys  that  some  of  the 
conditions  were  of  little  value  to  the  French,  he  answered : 
^^  The  Republic,  in  intrusting  to  me  the  command  of  an 
army,  has  credited  me  with  possessing  enough  discern- 
ment to  judge  of  what  that  army  requires,  without  having 
recourse  to  the  advice  of  my  enemy."  Apart,  however, 
from  this  sarcasm,  which  was  uttered  in  a  hard  and  biting 
voice,  his  tone  was  coldly  polite.  He  reserved  his  home 
thrust  for  the  close  of  the  conference.  When  it  had 
dragged  on  till  considerably  after  noon  with  no  definite 
result,  he  looked  at  his  watch  and  exclaimed :  ^^  Gentle- 
men, I  warn  you  that  a  general  attack  is  ordered  for  two 
o'clock,  and  that  if  I  am  not  assured  that  Coni  will  be 
put  in  my  hands  before  nightfall,  the  attack  will  not  be 
postponed  for  one  moment.  It  may  happen  to  me  to 
lose  battles,  but  no  one  shall  ever  see  me  lose  minutes 
either  by  over-confidence  or  by  sloth."  The  terms  of  the 
armistice  of  Cherasco  were  forthwith  signed  (April  28th)  ; 
they  were  substantially  the  same  as  those  first  offered  by 
the  victor.  During  th^  luncheon  which  followed,  the 
envoys  were  still  further  impressed  by  his  imperturbable 
confidence  and  trenchant  phrases ;  as  when  he  told  them 
that  the  campaign  was  the  exact  counterpart  of  what 


T  THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN  81 

he  had  planned  in  1794 ;  or  described  a  council  of  war  as 
a  convenient  device  for  covering  cowardice  or  irresolution 
in  the  commander;  or  assertea  that  nothing  could  now 
stop  him  before  the  walls  of  Mantua.^ 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  French  army  was  at  that  time 
so  disorganized  by  rapine  as  scarcely  to  have  withstood  a 
combined  and  vi&rorous  attack  by  Beaulieu  and  Colli.  The 
repubUcans,  lon|  exposed  to  hunger  and  privations,  were 
now  revelling  in  the  fertile  plains  of  Piedmont.  Large 
bands  of  marauders  ranj?ed  the  neighbouring  country, 
and  the  regiments  were  often  reduced  to  mere  companies. 
From  the  grave  risks  of  this  situation  Bonaparte  was  res- 
cued by  the  timidity  of  the  Court  of  Turin,  which  signed 
the  armistice  at  Cherasco  eighteen  days  after  the  com- 
mencement of  the  campaign.  A  fortnight  later  the  pre- 
liminaries of  peace  were  signed  between  France  and  the 
Ring  of  Sardinia,  by  which  the  latter  yielded  up  his  prov- 
inces of  Savoy  and  Nice,  and  renounced  the  alliance  with 
Austria.  Great  indignation  was  felt  in  the  Imperialist 
camp  at  this  news  ;  and  it  was  freely  stated  that  the  Pied- 
montese  had  let  themselves  be  beaten  in  order  to  compass 
a  peace  that  had  been  tacitly  agreed  upon  in  the  month 
of  January.^ 

Even  before  this  auspicious  event,  Bonaparte's  de- 
spatches to  the  Directors  were  couched  in  almost  imperious 
terms,  which  showed  that  he  felt  himself  the  master  of  the 
situation.  He  advised  them  as  to  their  policy  towards 
Sardinia,  pointing  out  that,  as  Victor  Amadeus  had  yielded 
up  three  important  fortresses,  he  was  practically  in  the 
hands  of  the  French  :  ^^  If  you  do  not  accept  peace  with 
him,  if  your  plan  is  to  dethrone  him,  you  must  amuse  him 
for  a  few  decades  ^  and  must  warn  me  :  I  then  seize  Va- 
lenza  and  march  on  Turin."  In  military  affairs  the  young 
general  showed  that  he  would  brook  no  interference  from 
Paris.  He  requested  the  Directory  to  draft  16,000  men 
from  Kellermann's  Army  of  the  Alps  to  reinforce  him : 

1  *'  Un  Homme  d'aatrefoiB,**  par  Costa  de  Beauregard. 

'These  were  General  Beaulieu^s  words  to  Colonel  Graham  on  May 
22nd. 

*  Periods  of  ten  days,  whidh,  in  the  reYolntionary  calendar,  saperaeded 
the  week. 


82  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

"  That  will  give  me  an  army  of  45,000  men,  of  which  pos- 
sibly I  may  send  a  part  to  Rome.  If  you  continue  your 
confidence  and  approve  these  plans,  I  am  sure  of  success: 
Italy  is  yours."  Somewhat  later,  the  Directors  proposed 
to  grant  the  required  reinforcements,  but  stipulated  for 
the  retention  of  part  of  the  army  in  the  Milanese  under 
the  command  of  Kellermann.  Thereupon  Bonaparte  re- 
plied (May  14th)  that,  as  the  Austrians  had  been  rein- 
forced, it  was  highly  impolitic  to  divide  the  command. 
Each  general  had  his  own  way  of  making  war.  Keller- 
raann,  having  more  experience,  would  doubtless  do  it 
better  :  but  both  together  would  do  it  very  badly. 

Again  the  Directors  had  blundered.  In  seeking  to  sub- 
ject Bonaparte  to  the  same  rules  as  had  been  imposed  on 
all  French  generals  since  the  treason  of  Dumouriez  in  1793, 
they  were  doubtless  consulting  the  vital  interests  of  the 
Commonwealth.  But,  while  striving  to  avert  all  possibili- 
ties of  Caesarism,  they  now  sinned  against  that  elementary 
principle  of  strategy  which  requires  unity  of  design  in 
military  operations.  Bonaparte's  retort  was  unanswerable, 
and  nothing  more  was  heard  of  the  luckless  proposal. 

Meanwhile  the  peace  with  the  House  of  Savoy  had 
thrown  open  the  Milanese  to  Bonaparte's  attack.  Hold- 
ing three  Sardinian  fortresses,  he  had  an  excellent  base  of 
operations  ;  for  the  lands  restored  to  the  King  of  Sardinia 
were  to  remain  subject  to  requisitions  for  the  French  army 
until  the  general  peace.  The  Austrians,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  weakened  by  the  hostility  of  their  Italian  subjects, 
and,  worst  of  all,  they  depended  ultimately  on  reinforce- 
ments drawn  from  beyond  the  Alps  by  way  of  Mantua. 
In  the  rich  plains  of  Lombardy  they,  however,  had  one 
advantage  which  was  denied  to  them  among  the  rocks  of 
the  Apennines.  Their  generals  could  display  the  tactical 
skill  on  which  they  prided  themselves,  and  their  splendid 
cavalry  had  some  chance  of  emulating  the  former  exploits 
of  the  Hungarian  and  Croatian  horse.  They  therefore 
awaited  the  onset  of  the  French,  little  dismayed  by  recent 
disasters,  and  animated  by  the  belief  that  their  antagonist, 
unversed  in  regular  warfare,  would  at  once  lose  in  the 
plains  the  bubble  reputation  gained  in  ravines.  But  the 
country  in  the  second  part  of  this  campaign  was  not  less 


T  THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN  83 

favourable  to  Bonaparte's  peculiar  gifts  than  that  in  which 
he  had  won  his  first  laurels  as  commander.  Amidst  the 
Apennines,  where  only  small  bodies  of  men  could  be 
moved,  a  general  inexperienced  in  the  handling  of  cavalry 
and  infantry  could  make  his  first  essays  in  tactics  with  fair 
chances  of  success.  NSpeed,  energy,  and  the  prompt  seiz- 
ure of  a  commanding  central  position  were  the  prime 
requisites  ;  the  handling  of  vast  masses  of  men  was  impos- 
sible. The  plains  of  Lombardy  facilitated  larger  move- 
ments ;  but  even  here  the*  numerous  broad  swift  streams 
fed  by  the  Alpine  snows,  and  the  network  of  irrigating 
dykes,  favoured  the  designs  of  a  young  and  daring  leader 
who  saw  how  to  use  natural  obstacles  so  as  to  baffle  and 
ensnare  his  foes.  Bonaparte  was  now  to  show  that  he  ex- 
celled his  enemies,  not  only  in  quickness  of  eye  and  vigour 
of  intellect,  but  also  in  the  minutiae  of  tactics  and  in  those 
larger  strategic  conceptions  which  decide  the  fate  of 
nations.  In  the  first  place,  having  the  superiority  of  force, 
he  was  able  to  attack.  This  is  an  advantage  at  all  times  : 
for  the  aggressor  can  generally  mislead  his  adversary  by  a 
series  of  feints  until  the  real  blow  can  be  delivered  with 
crushing  effect.  Such  has  been  the  aim  of  all  great 
leaders  from  the  time  of  Epaminondas  and  Alexander, 
Hannibal  and  Csesar,  down  to  the  age  of  Luxembourg, 
Marlborough,  and  Frederick  the  Great.  Aggressive  tac- 
tics were  particularly  suited  to  the  French  soldiery,  always 
eager,  active,  and  intelligent,  and  now  endowed  with 
boundless  enthusiasm  in  their  cause  and  in  their  leader. 

Then  again  he  was  fully  aware  of  the  inherent  vice  of 
the  Austrian  situation.  It  was  as  if  an  unwieldy  organ- 
ism stretched  a  vulnerable  limb  across  the  huge  barrier  of 
the  Alps,  exposing  it  to  the  attack  of  a  compacter  body. 
It  only  remained  for  Bonaparte  to  turn  against  his  foes  the 
smaller  geographical  features  on  which  they  too  implicitly 
relied.  Beaulieu  had  retired  beyond  the  Po  and  the  Ticino, 
expecting  that  the  attack  on  the  Milanese  would  be  deliv- 
ered across  the  latter  stream  by  the  ordinary  route,  which 
crossed  it  at  Pavia.  Near  that  city  the  Austrians  occupied 
a  strong  position  with  26,000  men,  while  other  detachments 
patrolled  the  banks  of  the  Ticino  further  north,  and  those 
of  the  Po  towards  Valenza,  only  5,000  men  being  sent 


84  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

towards  Piacenza.  Bonaparte,  however,  was  not  minded 
to  take  the  ordinary  route.  He  determined  to  march,  not 
as  yet  on  the  north  of  the  River  Po,  where  8now-«wollen 
streams  coursed  down  from  the  Alps,  but  rather  on  the 
south  side,  where  the  Apennines  throw  off  fewer  streams 
and  also  of  smaller  volume.  From  the  fortress  of  Tortona 
he  could  make  a  rush  at  Piacenza,  cross  the  Po  there,  and 
thus  gain  the  Milanese  almost  without  a  blow.  To  this 
end  he  had  stipulated  in  the  recent  terms  of  peace  that  he 
might  cross  the  Po  at  Valenza  ;  and  now,  amusing  his  foes 
by  feints  on  that  side,  he  vigorously  pushed  his  main 
columns  along  the  southern  bank  of  the  Po,  where  they 
gathered  up  all  the  available  boats.  The  vanguard,  led 
by  the  impetuous  Lannes,  seized  the  ferry  at  Piacenza, 
before  the  Austrian  horse  appeared,  and  scattered  a  squad- 
ron or  two  which  strove  to  drive  them  back  into  the  river 
(May  7th). 

Time  was  thus  gained  for  a  considerable  number  of 
French  to  cross  the  river  in  boats  or  by  the  ferry.  Work- 
ing under  the  eye  of  their  leader,  the  French  conquered 
all  obstacles  :  a  bridge  of  boats  soon  spanned  the  stream, 
and  was  defended  by  a  t6te  de  pont;  and  with  forces  about 
equal  in  number  to  Liptay's  Austrians,  the  republicans  ad- 
vanced northwards,  and,  after  a  tough  struggle,  dislodged 
their  foes  from  the  village  of  Fombio.  This  success  drove 
a  solid  wedge  between  Liptay  and  his  commander-in-chief, 
who  afterwards  bitterly  blamed  him,  first  for  retreating, 
and  secondly  for  not  reporting  his  retreat  to  headquarters. 
It  would  appear,  however,  that  Liptay  had  only  6,000 
men  (not  the  8,000  which  Napoleon  and  French  historians 
have  credited  to  him),  that  he  was  sent  by  Beaulieu  to 
Piacenza  too  late  to  prevent  the  crossing  by  the  French, 
and  that  at  the  close  of  the  fight  on  the  following  day  he 
was  completely  cut  off  from  communicating  with  his  supe- 
rior. Beaulieu,  with  his  main  force,  advanced  on  Fombio, 
stumbled  on  the  French,  where  he  looked  to  find  Liptay, 
and  after  a  confused  fight  succeeded  in  disengaging  him- 
self and  withdrawing  towards  Lodi,  where  the  high-road 
leading  to  Mantua  crossed  the  River  Adda.  To  that  stream 
he  directed  his  remaining  forces  to  retire.  He  thereby  left 
Milan  uncovered  (except  for  the  garrison  which  held  the 


i 


-r  ^ 

3  -I 


:  1 


I  i 


▼  THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN  86 

citadel),  and  abandoned  more  than  the  half  of  Liombardy; 
but,  from  the  military  point  of  view,  his  retreat  to  the  Adda 
was  thoroughly  sound.  Yet  here  again  a  movement  stra- 
tegically correct  was  marred  by  tactical  blunders.  Had  he 
concentrated  all  his  forces  at  the  nearest  point  of  the  Adda 
which  the  French  could  cross,  namely  Pizzighetone,  he 
would  have  rendered  any  flank  march  of  theirs  to  the 
northward  extremely  hazardous ;  but  he  had  not  yet  suffi- 
ciently learned  from  his  terrible  teacher  the  need  of  con- 
centration ;  and,  having  at  least  three  passages  to  guard, 
he  kept  his  forces  too  spread  out  to  oppose  a  vigorous 
move  against  any  one  of  them.  Indeed,  he  despaired  of 
holding  the  line  of  the  Adda,  and  retired  eastwards  with 
a  great  part  of  his  arma^l 

Consequently,  when  Bonaparte,  only  three  days  after 
the  seizure  of  Piacenza,  threw  his  almost  undivided  force 
against  the  town  of  Lodi,  his  passage  was  disputed  only 
by  the  rearguard,  whose  anxiety  to  cover  the  retreat  of 
a  belated  detachment  far  exceeded  their  determination 
to  defend  the  bridge  over  the  Adda.  This  was  a  narrow 
structure,  some  eighty  fathoms  long,  standing  high  above 
the  swift  but  shallow  river.  Resolutely  held  by  well- 
massed  troops  and  cannon,  it  might  have  cost  the  French 
a  severe  struggle ;  but  the  Imperialists  were  badly 
handled :  some  were  posted  in  and  around  the  town, 
which  was  between  the  river  and  the  advancing  French  ; 
and  the  weak  walls  of  Lodi  were  soon  escaladed  by  the 
impetuous  republicans.  The  Austrian  commander,  Sebot- 
tendorf,  now  hastily  ranged  his  men  along  the  eastern 
bank  of  the  river,  so  as  to  defend  the  bridge  and  prevent 
any  passage  of  the  river  by  boats  or  by  a  ford  above  the 
town.  The  Imperialists  numbered  only  9,627  men  ;  they 
were  discouraged  by  defeats  and  by  the  consciousness  that 
no  serious  stand  could  be  attempted  before  they  reached 
the  neighbourhood  of  Mantua  ;  and  their  efforts  to  break 
down  tne  bridge  were  now  frustrated  by  the  French,  who, 
posted  behind  the  walls  of  Lodi  on  the  higher  bank  of  the 
stream,  swept  their  opponents'  position  with  a  searching 
artillery  fire.  Having  'Shaken  the  constancy  of  his  foes 
and  refreshed  his  own  infantry  by  a  brief  rest  in  Lodi, 
Bonaparte    at  6  p.m.  secretly  formed  a  column    of  his 


80  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

choicest  troops  and  hurled  it  against  the  bridge.  A  hot 
fire  of  grapeshot  and  musketry  tore  its  front,  and  for  a 
time  the  column  bent  before  the  iron  hail.  But,  encour- 
aged by  the  words  of  their  young  leader,  generals,  cor- 
porals, and  grenadiers  pressed  home  their  charge.  This 
time,  aided  by  sharp-shooters  who  waded  to  islets  in  the 
river,  the  assailants  cleared  the  bridge,  bayoneted  the 
Austrian  cannoneers,  attacked  the  first  and  second  lines 
of  supporting  foot,  and,  when  reinforced,  compelled  horse 
and  foot  to  retreat  towards  Mantua.^ 

Such  was  the  affair  of  Lodi  (May  10th).  A  leejendary 
glamour  hovers  around  all  the  details  of  this  conflict  and 
invests  it  with  fictitious  importance.  Beaulieu's  main 
force  was  far  away,  and  there  was  no  hope  of  entrapping 
anything  more  than  the  rear  of  his  army.  Moreover,  if 
this  were  the  object,  why  was  not  the  flank  move  of  the 
French  cavalry  above  Lodi  pushed  home  earlier  in  the 
fight?  This,  if  supported  by  infantry,  could  have  out- 
flanked the  enemy  while  the  perilous  rush  was  made 
against  the  bridge  ;  and  such  a  turning  movement  would 
probably  have  enveloped  the  Austrian  force  while  it  was 
being  shattered  in  front.  That  is  the  view  in  which  the 
strategist,  Clausewitz,  regards  this  encounter.  Far  differ- 
ent was  the  impression  which  it  created  among  the  soldiers 
and  Frenchmen  at  large.  They  valued  a  commander 
more  for  bravery  of  the  DuU-dog  type  than  for  any  powers 
of  reasoning  and  subtle  combination.  These,  it  is  true, 
Bonaparte  had  already  shown.  He  now  enchanted  the 
soldiery  by  dealing  a  straight  sharp  blow.  It  had  a 
magical  effect  on  their  minds.  On  the  evening  of  that 
day  the  French  soldiers,  with  antique  republican  cama- 
raderie^  saluted  their  commander  as  le  petit  caporal  for 

1 1  have  followed  the  accounts  given  by  Jomini,  vol.  viii..  pp.  120-130  ; 
that  by  Scheie  in  the  »»0e8t.  Milit.  Zeitschrift"  for  1826,  vol.  ii.;  also 
Bouvier,  *^  Bonaparte  en  Italie,**  ch.  xiii.  ;  and  J.  G.'s  **  Etudes  but  la 
Campagne  de  1706-97.'*  Most  French  accounts,  being  based  on  Napo- 
leon's "M^moires,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  212  et  seq,^  are  a  tissue  of  inaccuracies. 
Bonaparte  affected  to  believe  that  at  Lodi  he  defeated  an  army  of  sixteen 
thousand  men.  Thiers  states  that  the  French  cavalry,  after  fording  the 
river  at  Montanasso,  influenced  the  result :  but  the  official  report  of  May 
11th,  1706,  expressly  states  that  the  French  horse  could  not  cross  the 
river  at  that  place  till  the  fight  wsa  over.  See  too  Desvernois,  **  Mems.,'' 
ch.  vii. 


▼  THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN  87 

his  personal  bravery  in  the  fray,  and  this  endearing 
phrase  helped  to  immortalize  the  affair  of  the  bridge  of 
Lodi.^  It  shot  a  thrill  of  exultation  through  France. 
With  pardonable  exaggeration,  men  told  how  he  charged 
at  the  head  of  the  column,  and,  with  Lannes,  was  the 
first  to  reach  the  opposite  side ;  and  later  generations 
havi^  figured  him  charging  before  his  tall  grenadiers — a 
feat  that  was  actually  performed  by  Lannes,  Berthier, 
Massena,  Cervoni,  and  Dallemagne.  It  was  all  one. 
Bonaparte  alone  was  the  hero  of  the  day.  He  reigned 
supreme  in  the  hearts  of  the  soldiers,  and  he  saw  the  im- 
portance of  this  conquest.  At  St.  Helena  he  confessed  to 
Montholon  that  it  was  the  victory  of  Lodi  which  fanned 
his  ambition  into  a  steady  flame. 

A  desire  of  stimulating  popular  enthusiasm  throughout 
Italy  impelled  the  young  victor  to  turn  away  from  his 
real  objective,  the  fortress  of  Mantua,  to  the  political 
capital  of  Lombardy.  The  people  of  Milan  hailed  their 
French  liberators  with  enthusiasm  :  they  rained  flowers 
on  the  bronzed  soldiers  of  liberty,  and  pointed  to  their 
tattered  uniforms  and  worn-out  shoes  as  proofs  of  their 
triumphant  energy :  above  all,  they  gazed  with  admira- 
tion, not  unmixea  with  awe,  at  the  thin  pale  features 
of  the  young  commander,  whose  plain  attire  bespoke  a 
Spartan  activity,  whose  ardent  gaze  and  decisive  gestures 
proclaimed  a  born  leader  of  men.  Forthwith  he  arranged 
for  the  investment  of  the  citadel  where  eighteen  hun(&ed 
Austrians  held  out :  he  then  received  the  chief  men  of 
the  city  with  easy  Italian  grace ;  and  in  the  evening  he 
gave  a  splendid  ball,  at  which  all  the  dignity,  wealth,  and 
beauty  of  the  old  Lombard  capital  shone  resplendent. 
For  a  brief  space  all  went  well  between  the  Lombards  and 
their  liberators.  He  received  with  flattering  distinction 
the  chief  artists  and  men  of  letters,  and  also  sought  to 
quicken  the  activity  of  the  University  of  Pavia.  Politi- 
cal clubs  and  newspapers  multiplied  throughout  Lom- 
bardy ;  and  actors,  authors,  and  editors  joined  in  a  paean 
of  courtly  or  fawning  praise,  to  the  new  Scipio,  Caesar, 
Hannibal,  an^  Jupiter. 

There  were  other  reasons  why  the  Lombards  should  wor- 

1  Bouvier  (p.  583)  traces  this  story  to  Las  Cases  and  discredits  it. 


88  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

ship  the  young  victor.  Apart  from  the  admiration  which 
a  gifted  race  ever  feels  for  so  fascinating  a  combination  of 
youthful  grace  with  intellectual  power  and  martial  prow- 
ess, they  believed  that  this  Italian  hero  would  call  the 
people  to  political  activity,  perchance  even  to  national 
independence.  For  this  their  most  ardent  spirits  had 
sighed,  conspired,  or  fought  during  the  eighty-three  years 
of  the  Austrian  occupation.  Ever  since  the  troublous 
times  of  Dante  there  had  been  prophetic  souls  who  caught 
the  vision  of  a  new  Italy,  healed  of  her  countless  schisms, 
purified  from  her  social  degradations,  and  uniting  the 
prowess  of  her  ancient  life  with  the  gentler  arts  of  the 
present  for  the  perfection  of  her  own  powers  and  for  the 
welfare  of  mankind.  The  gleam  of  this  vision  had  shone 
forth  even  amidst  the  thunder  claps  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion ;  and  now  that  the  storm  had  burst  over  the  plains  of 
Lombardy,  ecstatic  youths  seemed  to  see  the  vision  em- 
bodied in  the  person  of  Bonaparte  himself.  At  the  first 
news  of  the  success  at  Lodi  the  national  colours  were 
donned  as  cockades,  or  waved  defiance  from  balconies  and 
steeples  to  the  Austrian  garrisons.  All  truly  Italian 
hearts  believed  that  the  French  victories  heralded  the 
dawn  of  political,  freedom  not  only  for  Lombardy,  but  for 
the  whole  peninsula. 

Bonaparte's  first  actions  increased  these  hopes.  He 
abolished  the  Austrian  machinery  of  government,  except- 
ing the  Council  of  State,  and  approved  the  formation  of 
provisional  municipal  councils  and  of  a  National  Guard. 
At  the  same  time,  he  wrote  guardedly  to  the  Directors  at 
Paris,  asking  whether  they  proposed  to  organize  Lombardy 
as  a  republic,  as  it  was  much  more  ripe  for  this  form  of 
government  than  Piedmont.  Further  than  this  he  could 
not  go ;  but  at  a  later  date  he  did  much  to  redeem  his  first 
promises  to  the  people  of  Northern  Italy. 

The  fair  prospect  was  soon  overclouded  by  the  financial 
measures  urged  on  the  young  commander  from  Paris, 
measures  which  were  disastrous  to  the  Lombards  and  de- 
grading to  the  liberators  themselves.  The  Directors  had 
recently  bidden  him  to  press  hard  on  the  Milanese,  and 
levy  large  contributions  in  money,  provisions,  and  objects 
of  art,  seeing  that  they  did  not  intend  to  keep  this  coun- 


V  THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN  gO 

try.^  Bonaparte  accordingly  issued  a  proclamation  (May 
19th),  imposing  on  Lombardy  the  sum  of  twenty  million 
francs,  remarking  that  it  was  a  very  light  sum  for  so  fer- 
tile a  country.  Only  two  days  before  he  had  in  a  letter 
to  the  Directors  described  it  as  exhausted  by  five  years  of 
war.  As  for  the  assertion  that  the  army  needed  this  sum, 
it  may  be  compared  with  his  private  notification  to  the 
Directory,  three  days  after  his  proclamation,  that  they 
might  speedily  count  on  six  to  eight  millions  of  the  Lom- 
bard contribution,  as  lying  ready  at  their  disposal,  ^^it 
being  over  and  above  what  the  army  requires."  This  is 
the  first  definite  suggestion  by  Bonaparte  of  that  system 
of  bleeding  cqpquered  lands  for  the  benefit  of  the  French 
Exchequer,  which  enabled  him  speedily  to  gain  power  over 
the  Directors.  Thenceforth  they  began  to  connive  at  his 
diplomatic  irregularities,  and  even  to  urge  on  his  expe- 
ditions into  wealthy  districts,  provided  that  the  spoils  went 
to  Paris ;  while  the  conqueror,  on  his  part,  was  able  tacitly 
to  assume  that  tone  of  authority  with  which  the  briber 
treats  the  bribed.^ 

The  exaction  of  this  large  sum,  and  of  various  requisites 
for  the  army,  as  well  as  the  ^^  extraction  "  of  works  of  art 
for  the  benefit  of  French  museums,  at  once  aroused  the 
bitterest  feelings.  The  loss  of  priceless  treasures,  such  as 
the  manuscript  of  Virgil  which  had  belonged  to  Petrarch, 
and  the  masterpieces  of  Raphael  and  Leonardo  da  Vinci, 
might  perhaps  have  been  borne:  it  concerned  only  the 
cultured  few,  and  their  effervescence  was  soon  quelled  by 
patrols  of  French  cavalry.  Far  different  was  it  with  the 
peasants  between  Milan  and  Pavia.  Drained  by  the  white- 
coats,  they  now  refused  to  be  bled  for  the  benefit  of  the 
blue-coats  of  France.  They  rushed  to  arms.  The  city  of 
Pavia  defied  the  attack  of  a  French  column  until  cannon 
battered  in  its  gates.  Then  the  republicans  rushed  in, 
massacred  all  the  armed  men  for  some  hours,  and  glutted 
their  lust  and  rapacity.  By  order  of  Bonaparte,  the  mem- 
bers of  the  municipal  council  were  condemned  to  execu- 

1  Directorial  despatch  of  May  7th,  1706.  The  date  rebuts  the  statement 
of  M.  Aolard,  in  M.  Lavisse's  recent  volume,  **  La  Revolution  Francaise/* 
p.  435,  that  Bonaparte  suggested  to  the  Directory  the  pillage  of  Lombardy. 

«  "  Corresp.,"  June  0th,  1797. 


90  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap. 

tion ;  but  a  delay  occurred  before  this  ferocious  order  was 
carried  out,  and  it  was  subsequently  mitigated.  Two  hun- 
dred hostages  were,  however,  sent  away  into  France  as  a 
guarantee  for  the  good  behaviour  of  the  unfortunate  city : 
whereupon  the  chief  announced  to  the  Directory  that  this 
would  serve  as  a  useful  lesson  to  the  peoples  of  Italy. 

In  one  sense  this  was  correct.  It  gave  the  Italians  a 
true  insight  into  French  methods ;  and  painful  emotions 
thrilled  the  peoples  of  the  peninsula  when  they  realized  at 
what  a  price  their  liberation  was  to  be  effected.  Yet  it  is 
unfair  to  lav  the  chief  blame  on  Bonaparte  for  the  pillage 
of  Lombardy.  His  actions  were  only  a  development  of 
existing  revolutionary  customs ;  but  never  had  these  de- 
moralizing measures  been  so  thoroughly  enforced  as  in  the 
present  system  of  liberation  and  blackmail.  Lombardy 
was  ransacked  with  an  almost  Vandal  rapacity.  Bonaparte 
desired  little  for  himself.  His  aim  ever  was  power  rather 
than  wealth.  Riches  he  valued  only  as  a  means  to  politi- 
cal supremacy.  But  he  took  care  to  place  the  Directors 
and  all  his  influential  officers  deeply  in  his  debt.  To  the 
five  soi-disant  rulers  of  France  he  sent  one  hundred  horses, 
the  finest  that  could  be  found  in  Lombardy,  to  replace  "  the 
poor  creatures  which  now  dmw  your  carriages  " ;  ^  to  his 
officers  his  indulgence  was  passive,  but  usually  effective. 
Marmont  states  that  Bonaparte  once  reproached  him  for 
his  scrupulousness  in  returning  the  whole  of  a  certain  sum 
which  he  had  been  commissioned  to  recover.  "At  that 
time,"  says  Marmont,  "  we  still  retained  a  flower  of  deli- 
cacy on  these  subjects."  This  Alpine  gentian  was  soon 
to  fade  in  the  heats  of  the  plains.  Some  generals  made 
large  fortunes,  eminently  so  Massena,  first  in  plunder  as 
in  the  fray.  And  yet  the  commander,  who  was  so  lenient 
to  his  generals,  filled  his  letters  to  the  Directory  with  com- 
plaints about  the  cloud  of  French  commissioners,  dealers, 
and  other  civilian  harpies  who  battened  on  the  spoil  of 
Lombardy.  It  seems  impossible  to  avoid  the  conclusion 
that  this  indulgence  towards  the  soldiers  and  severity 
towards  civilians  was  the  result  of  a  fixed  determination 
to  link  indissolubly  to  his  fortunes  the  generals  and  rank 
and  file.     The  contrast  in  his  behaviour  was  often  star- 

1  "Corresp.,"  June  Ist,  1796. 


V  THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN  91 

tling.  Some  of  the  civilians  he  imprisoned:  others  he 
desired  to  shoot;  but  as  the  hardiest  robbers  had  gen- 
erally made  to  themselves  friends  of  the  military  mammon 
of  unrighteousness,  they  escaped  with  a  fine  ridiculously 
out  of  proportion  to  their  actual  gains.  ^ 

The  Dukes  of  Parma  and  Modena  were  also  mulcted. 
The  former  of  these,  owing  to  his  relationship  with  the 
Spanish  Bourbons,  with  whom  the  Directory  desired  to 
remain  on  friendly  terms,  was  subjected  to  the  fine  of 
merely  two  million  francs  and  twenty  masterpieces  of  art, 
these  last  to  be  selected  by  French  commissioners  from 
the  galleries  of  the  duchy ;  but  the  Duke  of  Modena,  who 
had  assisted  the  Austrian  arms,  purchased  his  pardon  by 
an  indemnity  of  ten  million  francs,  and  by  the  cession  of 
twenty  pictures,  the  chief  artistic  treasures  of  his  States.^ 
As  Bonaparte  naively  stated  to  the  Directors,  the  duke 
had  no  fortresses  or  guns ;  consequently  these  could  not 
be  demanded  from  him. 

From  this  degrading  work  Bonaparte  strove  to  wean  his 
soldiers  by  recalling  them  to  their  nobler  work  of  carry- 
ing on  the  enfranchisement  of  Italy.  In  a  proclamation 
(May  20th)  which  even  now  stirs  the  blood  like  a  trumpet 
call,  he  bade  his  soldiers  remember  that,  though  much  had 
been  done,  a  far  greater  task  yet  awaited  them.  Posterity 
must  not  reproach  them  for  having  found  their  Capua  in 
Lombardy.  Rome  was  to  be  freed :  the  Eternal  City  was 
to  renew  her  youth,  and  show  again  the  virtues  of  her 
ancient  worthies,  Brutus  and  Scipio.  Then  France  would 
give  a  glorious  peace  to  Europe ;  then  their  fellow-citizens 
would  say  of  each  champion  of  liberty  as  he  returned  to 
his  hearth:  "He  was  of  the  Army  of  Italy."  By  such 
stirring  words  did  he  entwine  with  the  love  of  liberty  that 
passion  for  military  glory  which  was  destined  to  strangle 
the  Republic. 

Meanwhile  the  Austrians  had  retired  behind  the  banks 
of  the  Mincio  and  the  walls  of  its  guardian  fortress,  Man- 
tua. Their  position  was  one  of  great  strength.  The 
river,  which  carries  off  the  surplus  waters  of  Lake  Garda, 
joins  the  River  Po  after  a  course  of  some  thirty  miles. 

1  Gaffarel,  ^^  Bonaparte  et  les  R^publiques  Italiennes/*  p.  22. 
s  **  Corresp.,"  May  17th,  1796. 


92  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chjlp. 

Along  with  the  tongue-like  cavity  occupied  by  its  parent 
lake,  the  river  forms  the  chief  inner  barrier  to  all  invaders 
of  Italy.  From  the  earliest  times  down  to  those  of  the 
two  Napoleons,  the  banks  of  the  Mincio  have  witnessed 
many  of  the  contests  which  have  decided  the  fortunes  of 
the  peninsula.  On  its  lower  course,  where  the  river  widens 
out  into  a  semicircular  lagoon  flanked  by  marshes  and  back- 
waters, is  the  historic  town  of  Mantua.  For  this  position, 
if  we  may  trust  the  picturesque  lines  of  Mantua's  noblest 
son,^  the  three  earliest  races  of  Northern  Italy  had  striven ; 
and  when  the  power  of  imperial  Rome  was  waning,  the 
fierce  Attila  pitched  his  camp  on  the  banks  of  the  Min- 
cio, and  there  received  the  pontiff  Leo,  whose  prayers  and 
dignity  averted  the  threatening  torrent  of  the  Scythian 
horse. 

It  was  by  this  stream,  famed  in  war  as  in  song,  that  the 
Imperialists  now  halted  their  shattered  forces,  awaiting 
reinforcements  from  Tyrol.  These  would  pass  down  the 
valley  of  the  Adige,  and  in  the  last  part  of  their  march 
would  cross  the  lands  of  the  Venetian  Republic.  For  this 
action  there  was  a  long-established  right  of  way,  which 
did  not  involve  a  breach  of  the  neutrality  of  Venice.  But, 
as  some  of  the  Austrian  troops  had  straggled  on  to  the 
Venetian  territory  south  of  Brescia,  the  French  commander 
had  no  hesitation  in  openly  violating  Venetian  neutrality 
by  the  occupation  of  that  town  (May  26th).  Augereau's 
division  was  also  ordered  to  push  on  towards  the  west 
shore  of  Lake  Garda,  and  there  collect  boats  as  if  a  cross- 
ing were  intended.  Seeing  this,  the  Austrians  seized  the 
small  Venetian  fortress  of  Peschiera,  which  commands  the 
exit  of  the  Mincio  from  the  lake,  and  Venetian  neutrality 
was  thenceforth  wholly  disregarded. 

By  adroit  moves  on  the  borders  of  the  lake,  Bonaparte 
now  sought  to  make  Beaulieu  nervous  about  his  communi- 
cations with  Tyrol  through  the  river  valley  of  the  Adige ; 
he  completely  succeeded:  seeking  to  guard  the  important 
positions  on  that  river  between  Rivoli  and  Roveredo,  Beau- 
lieu  so  weakened  his  forces  on  the  Mincio,  that  at  Bor- 
ghetto  and  Valeggio  he  had  only  two  battalions  and  ten 
squadrons  of  horse,  or  about  two  thousand  men.     Lannes^ 

1  VirgU,  iEneid,  x.,  200. 


V  THE  ITALIAN  CAfiiPAIGN  »3 

grenadiers,  therefore,  had  little  difficulty  in  forcing  a  pas- 
sage on  May  30th,  whereupon  Beaulieu  withdrew  to  the 
upper  Adige,  highly  satisfied  with  himself  for  having  vict- 
ualled the  fortress  of  Mantua  so  that  it  could  withstand 
a  long  siege.  This  was,  practically,  his  sole  achievement 
in  the  campaign.  Outnumbered,  outgeneralled,  banki'upt 
in  health  as  in  reputation,  he  soon  resigned  his  command, 
but  not  before  he  had  given  signs  of  "downright  dotage."^ 
He  had,  however,  achieved  immortality  :  his  incapacity 
threw  into  brilliant  relief  the  genius  of  his  young  antago- 
nist, and  therefore  appreciably  affected  the  fortunes  of 
Italy  and  of  Europe. 

Bonaparte  now  despatched  Massena's  division  north- 
wards, to  coop  up  to  the  Austrians  in  the  narrow  valley  of 
the  upper  Adige,  while  other  regiments  began  to  close  in 
on  Mantua.  The  peculiarities  of  the  ground  favoured  its 
investment.  The  semicircular  lagoon  which  guards  Man- 
tua on  the  north,  and  the  marshes  on  the  south  side,  render 
an  assault  very  difficult ;  but  they  also  limit  the  range  of 
ground  over  which  sorties  can  be  made,  thereby  lightening 
the  work  of  the  besiegers  ;  and  during  part  of  the  block- 
ade Napoleon  left  fewer  than  five  thousand  men  for  this 
purpose.  It  was  clear,  however,  that  the  reduction  of 
Mantua  would  be  a  tedious  undertaking,  such  as  Bona- 
parte's daring  and  enterprising  genius  could  ill  brook,  and 
that  his  cherished  design  of  marching  northwards  to  effect 
a  junction  with  Moreau  on  the  Danube  was  impossible. 
Having  only  40,400  men  with  him  at  midsummer,  he  had 
barely  enough  to  hold  the  line  of  the  Adige,  to  block- 
ade Mantua,  and  to  keep  open  his  communications  with 
France. 

At  the  command  of  the  Directory  he  turned  southward 
against  feebler  foes.  The  relations  between  the  Papal 
States  and  the  French  Republic  had  been  hostile  since  the 
assassination  of  the  French  envoy,  Basseville,  at  Rome,  in 
the  early  days  of  1793  ;  but  the  Pope,  Pius  VI.,  had  con- 
fined himself  to  anathemas  against  the  revolutionists  and 
prayers  for  the  success  of  the  First  Coalition.  This  con- 
duct now  drew  upon  him  a  sharp  blow.  French  troops 
crossed  the  Po  and  seized  Bologna,  whereupon  the  terrified 

^  Colonel  Graham^B  despatches. 


M  THE   LIFE   OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

cardinals  signed  an  armistice  with  the  republican  com- 
mander, agreeing  to  close  all  their  States  to  the  English, 
and  to  admit  a  French  garrison  to  the  port  of  Ancona. 
The  Pope  also  consented  to  yield  up  "  one  hundred  pic- 
tures, busts,  vases,  or  statues,  as  the  French  Commissioners 
shall  determine,  among  which  shall  especially  be  included 
the  bronze  bust  of  Junius  Brutus  and  the  marble  bust  of 
Marcus  Brutus,  together  with  five  hundred  manuscripts." 
He  was  also  constrained  to  pay  15,500,000  francs,  besides 
animals  and  goods  such  as  the  French  agents  should  requi- 
sition for  their  army,  exclusive  of  the  money  and  mate- 
rials drawn  from  the  districts  of  Bologna  and  Ferrara. 
The  grand  total,  in  money,  and  in  kind,  raised  from  the 
Papal  States  in  this  profitable  raid,  was  reckoned  by  Bona- 
parte himself  as  84,700,000  francs,^  or  about  £1,400,000 
—  a  liberal  assessment  for  the  life  of  a  single  envoy  and 
the  bruti  fulmina  of  the  Vatican. 

Equally  lucrative  was  a  dash  into  Tuscany.  As  the 
Grand  Duke  of  this  fertile  land  had  allowed  English  cruis- 
ers and  merchants  certain  privileges  at  Leghorn,  this  was 
taken  as  a  departure  from  the  neutrality  which  he  osten- 
sibly maintained  since  the  signature  of  a  treaty  of  peace 
with  France  in  1795.  A  column  of  the  republicans  now 
swiftly  approached  Leghorn  and  seized  much  valuable 
property  from  British  merchants.  Yet  the  invaders  failed 
to  secure  the  richest  of  the  hoped-for  plunder ;  for  about 
forty  English  merchantmen  sheered  off  from  shore  as  the 
troops  neared  the  seaport,  and  an  English  frigate,  swoop- 
ing down,  carried  off  two  French  vessels  almost  under  the 
eyes  of  Bonaparte  himself.  This  last  outrage  gave,  it  is  true, 
a  slight  excuse  for  the  levying  of  requisitions  in  Leghorn 
and  its  environs  ;  yet,  according  to  the  memoir-writer, 
Miot  de  Melito,  this  unprincipled  action  must  be  attrib- 
uted not  to  Bonaparte,  but  to  the  urgent  needs  of  the 
French  treasury  and  the  personal  greed  of  some  of  the 
Directors.  Possibly  also  the  French  commissioners  and 
agents,  who  levied  blackmail  or  selected  pictures,  may 
have  had  some  share  in  the  shaping  of  the  Directorial 
policy  :  at  least,  it  is  certain  that  some  of  them,  notably 
Salicetti,  amassed  a  large  fortune  from   the   plunder   of 

1  **  Corresp.,"  June  26th,  1706. 


V  THE  ITALIAN  CAMPAIGN  96 

Leghorn.  In  order  to  calm  the  resentment  of  the  Grand 
Duke,  Bonaparte  paid  a  brief  visit  to  Florence.  He  was 
received  in  respectful  silence  as  he  rode  through  the  streets 
where  his  ancestors  had  schemed  for  the  Ghibelline  cause. 
By  a  deft  mingling  of  courtesy  and  firmness  the  new  con- 
queror imposed  his  will  on  the  Government  of  Florence, 
and  then  sped  northward  to  press  on  the  siege  of  Mantua. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA 

The  circumstances  which  recalled  Bonaparte  to  the 
banks  of  the  Mincio  were  indeed  serious.  The  Emperor 
Francis  was  determined  at  all  costs  to  retain  his  hold  on 
Italy  by  raising  the  siege  of  that  fortress  ;  and  unless 
the  French  commander  could  speedily  compass  its  fall,  he 
had  the  prospect  of  fighting  a  greatly  superior  army  while 
his  rear  was  threatened  by  the'garrison  of  Mantua.  Aus- 
tria was  making  unparalleled  efforts  to  drive  this  pre- 
sumptuous young  general  from  a  land  which  she  regarded 
as  her  own  political  preserve.  Military  historians  have 
always  been  puzzled  to  account  for  her  persistent  efforts 
in  1796-97  to  re-conquer  Lombardy.  But,  in  truth,  the 
reasons  are  diplomatic,  not  military,  and  need  not  be  de- 
tailed here.  Suffice  it  to  say  that,  though  the  Hapsburg 
lands  in  Swabia  were  threatened  by  Moreau's  Army  of 
the  Rhine,  Francis  determined  at  all  costs  to  recover  his 
Italian  possessions. 

To  this  end  the  Emperor  now  replaced  the  luckless 
Beaulieu  by  General  Wiirmser,  who  had  gained  some 
reputation  in  the  Rhenish  campaigns  ;  and,  detaching 
25,000  men  from  his  northern  armies  to  strengthen  his 
army  on  the  Adige,  he  bade  him  carry  the  double-headed 
eagle  of  Austria  victoriously  into  the  plains  of  Italy. 
Though  too  late  to  relieve  the  citadel  of  Milan,  he  was  to 
strain  every  nerve  to  relieve  Mantua  ;  and,  since  the 
latest  reports  represented  the  French  as  widely  dispersed 
for  the  plunder  of  Central  Italy,  the  Emperor  indulged 
the  highest  hopes  of  Wiirmser's  success.^  Possibly  this 
might  have  been  attained  had  the  Austrian  Emperor  and 
staff  understood  the  absolute  need  of  concentration  in 
attacking  a  commander  who  had  already  demonstrated  its 

^  Despatch  of  Francis  to  WUrmser,  July  14th,  1796. 

06 


CHAP.  VI  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  07 

supreme  importance  in  warfare.  Yet  the  diflSculties  of 
marching  an  army  of  47,000  men  through  the  narrow  de- 
file carved  by  the  Adige  through  the  Tyrolese  Alps,  and 
the  wide  extent  of  the  French  covering  lines,  led  to  the 
adoption  of  a  plan  which  favoured  rapidity  at  the  expense 
of  security.  Wiirmser  was  to  divide  his  forces  for  the 
difficult  march  southward  from  Tyrol  into  Italy.  In 
defence  of  this  arrangement  much  could  be  urged.  To 
have  cumbered  the  two  roads,  which  run  on  either  side 
of  the  Adige  from  Trient  towards  Mantua,  with  infantry, 
cavalry,  artillery,  and  the  countless  camp-followers,  ani- 
mals, and  wagons  that  follow  an  army,  would  have  been 
fatal  alike  to  speed  of  marching  and  to  success  in  moun- 
tain warfare.  Even  in  the  campaign  of  1866  the  greatest 
commander  of  this  generation  carried  out  his  maxim, 
^^  March  in  separate  columns  :  unite  for  fighting."  But 
Wiirmser  and  the  Aulic  Council  ^  at  Vienna  neglected  to 
insure  that  reunion  for  attack,  on  which  von  Moltke  laid 
such  stress  in  his  Bohemian  campaign.  The  Austrian 
forces  in  1796  were  divided  by  obstacles  which  could  not 
quickly  be  crossed,  namely,  by  Lake  Garda  and  the  lofty 
mountains  which  tower  above  the  valley  of  the  Adige. 
Assuredly  the  Imperialists  were  not  nearly  strong  enough 
to  run  any  risks.  The  official  Austrian  returns  show  that 
the  total  force  assembled  in  Tyrol  for  the  invasion  of 
Italy  amounted  to  46,937  men,  not  to  the  60,000  as  pic- 
tured by  the  imagination  of  Thiers  and  other  French 
historians.  As  Bonaparte  had  in  Lombardy-Venetia  fully 
45,000  men  (including  10,000  now  engaged  in  the  siege 
of  Mantua),  scattered  along  a  front  of  fifty  miles  from 
Milan  to  Brescia  and  Legnago,  the  incursion  of  Wiirmser^s 
force,  if  the  French  were  held  to  their  separate  positions 
by  diversions  against  their  flanks,  must  have  proved  de- 
cisive. But  the  fault  was  committed  of  so  far  dividing 
the  Austrians  that  nowhere  could  they  deal  a  crushing 
blow.     Quosdanovich  with  17,600  men  was  to  take  the 

1  Jomini  (vol.  viii.,  p.  306)  blames  Weyrother,  the  chief  of  Wilrmser's 
staff,  for  the  plan.  Jomini  gives  the  precise  figures  of  the  French  on  July 
25tb  :  Massi^na  had  15,000  men  on  the  upper  Adige;  Augereau,  6,000 
near  Legnago ;  Sauret,  4,000  at  Salo ;  S^rurier,  10,5(K)  near  Mantua  ;  and 
with  others  at  and  near  Peschiera  the  total  fighting  strength  was  45,000. 
So  "J.  G.,"  p.  108. 


98  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

western  side  of  Lake  Garda,  seize  the  French  magazines 
at  Brescia,  and  cut  their  communications  with  Milan  and 
France :  the  main  body  under  Wiirmser,  24,300  strong, 
was  meanwhile  to  march  in  two  columns  on  either  bank 
of  the  Adige,  drive  the  French  from  Rivoli  and  push  on 
towards  Mantua:  and  yet  a  third  division,  led  by  Da- 
vidovich  from  the  district  of  Friuli  on  the  east,  received 
orders  to  march  on  Vicenza  and  Legnago,  in  order  to 
distract  the  French  from  that  side  and  possibly  relieve 
Mantua  if  the  other  two  onsets  failed. 

Faulty  as  these  dispositions  were,  they  yet  seriously 
disconcerted  Bonaparte.  He  was  at  Montechiaro,  a  vil- 
lage situated  on  the  road  between  Brescia  and  Mantua, 
when,  on  July  29th,  he  heard  that  the  white-coats  had 
driven  in  Massena's  vanguard  above  Rivoli  on  the  Adige, 
were  menacing  other  positions  near  Verona  and  Legnago, 
and  were  advancing  on  'Brescia.  As  soon  as  the  full 
extent  of  the  peril  was  manifest,  he  sent  off  ten  despatches 
to  his  generals,  ordering  a  concentration  of  troops — these, 
of  course,  fighting  so  as  to  delay  the  pursuit  —  towards 
the  southern  end  of  Lake  Garda.  This  wise  step  proba- 
bly saved  his  isolated  forces  from  disaster.  It  was  at  that 
point  that  the  Austrians  proposed  to  unite  their  two  chief 
columns  and  crush  the  French  detachments.  But  by 
drawing  in  the  divisions  of  Massena  and  Augereau  towards 
the  Mincio,  Bonaparte  speedily  assembled  a  formidable 
array,  and  held  the  central  position  between  the  eastern 
and  western  divisions  of  the  Imperialists.  He  gave  up 
the  important  defensive  line  of  the  Adige,  it  is  true ;  but 
by  promptly  rallying  on  the  Mincio,  he  occupied  a  base 
that  was  defended  on  the  north  by  the  small  fortress  of 
Peschiera  and  the  waters  of  Lake  Garda.  Holding  the 
bridges  over  the  Mincio,  he  could  strike  at  his  assailants 
wherever  they  should  attack  ;  above  all,  he  still  covered 
the  siege  of  Mantua.  Such  were  his  dispositions  on  July 
29th  and  30th.  On  the  latter  day  he  heard  of  the  loss  of 
Brescia,  and  the  consequent  cutting  of  his  communica- 
tions with  Milan.  Thereupon  he  promptly  ordered  Seru- 
rier,  who  was  besieging  Mantua,  to  make  a  last  vigorous 
effort  to  take  that  fortress,  but  also  to  assure  his  retreat 
westwards  if  fortune  failed  him.      Later  in  the  day  he 


Yi  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  99 

ordered  him  forthwith  to  send  away  his  siege-train, 
throwing  into  the  lake  or  burying  whatever  he  could  not 
save  from  the  advancing  Imperialists. 

This  apparently  desperate  step,  which  seemed  to  fore- 
bode the  abandonment  not  only  of  the  siege  of  Mantua, 
but  of  the  whole  of  Lombardy,  was  in  reality  a  master- 
stroke. Bonaparte  had  perceived  the  truth,  which  the 
campaigns  of  1813  and  1870  were  abundantly  to  illus- 
trate —  that  the  possession  of  fortresses,  and  consequently 
their  siege  by  an  invader,  is  of  secondary  importance 
when  compared  with  a  decisive  victory  gained  in  the  open. 
When  menaced  by  superior  forces  advancing  towards  the 
south  of  Lake  Garda,  he  saw  that  he  must  sacrifice  his 
siege  works,  even  his  siege-train,  in  order  to  gain  for  a  few 
precious  days  that  superiprity  in  the  field  which  the  divi- 
sion of  the  Imperialist  columns  still  left  to  him. 

The  dates  of  these  occurrences  deserve  close  scrutiny"; 
for  they  suffice  to  refute  some  of  the  exorbitant  claims 
made  at  a  later  time  by  General  Augereau,  that  only  his 
immovable  firmness  forced  Bonaparte  to  fight  and  to 
change  his  dispositions  of  retreat  into  an  attack  which 
re-established  everything.  This  extraordinary  assertion, 
published  by  Augereau  after  he  had  deserted  Napoleon 
in  1814,  is  accompanied  by  a  detailed  recital  of  the  events 
of  July  30th-August  5th,  in  which  Bonaparte  appears  as 
the  dazed  and  discouraged  commander,  surrounded  by 
pusillanimous  generals,  and  urged  on  to  fight  solely  by 
the  confidence  of  Augereau.  That  the  forceful  energy  of 
this  general  had  a  great  influence  in  restoring  the  morale 
of  the  French  army  in  the  confused  and  desperate  move- 
ments which  followed  may  freely  be  granted.  But  his 
claims  to  have  been  the  mainspring  of  the  French  move- 
ments in  those  anxious  days  deserve  a  brief  examination. 
He  asserts  that  Bonaparte,  "  devoured  by  anxieties,"  met 
him  at  Roverbella  late  in  the  evening  of  July  30th,  and 
spoke  of  retiring  beyond  the  River  Po.  The  official  cor- 
respondence disproves  this  assertion.  Bonaparte  had 
already  given  orders  to  Serurier  to  retire  beyond  the  Po 
with  his  artillery  train ;  but  this  was  obviously  an  attempt 
to  save  it  from  the  advancing  Austrians  ;  and  the  com- 
mander had  ordered  the  northern  part  of   the   French 


100  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

besieging  force  to  join  Augereau  between  Roverbella 
and  Goito.  Augereau  further  asserts  that,  after  he 
had  roused  Bonaparte  to  the  need  of  a  dash  to  re- 
cover Brescia,  the  commander-in-chief  remarked  to  Ber- 
thier,  *^  In  that  case  we  must  raise  the  siege  of  Mantua," 
which  again  he  (Augereau)  vigorously  opposed.  This 
second  statement  is  creditable  neither  to  Augereau's 
accuracy  nor  to  his  sagacity.  The  order  for  the  raising 
of  the  siege  had  been  issued,  and  it  was  entirely  necessary 
for  the  concentration  of  French  troops,  on  which  Bona- 
parte now  relied  as  his  only  hope  against  superior  force. 
Had  Bonaparte  listened  to  Augereau's  advice  and  per- 
sisted still  in  besieging  Mantua,  the  scattered  French 
forces  must  have  been  crushed  in  detail.  Augereau's 
words  are  those  of  a  mere  fighter,  not  of  a  strategist ; 
and  the  timidity  which  he  ungenerously  attributed  to 
Bonaparte  was  nothing  but  the  caution  which  a  superior 
intellect  saw  to  be  a  necessary  prelude  to  a  victorious 
move. 

That  the  fighting  honours  of  the  ensuing  days  rightly 
belong  to  Augereau  may  be  frankly  conceded.  With 
forces  augmented  by  the  northern  part  of  the  besiegers 
of  Mantua,  he  moved  rapidly  westwards  from  the  Mincio 
against  Brescia,  and  rescued  it  from  the  vanraard  of 
Quosdanovich  (August  1st).  On  the  previous  day  other 
Austrian  detachments  had  also,  after  obstinate  conflicts, 
been  worsted  near  Salo  and  Lonato.  Still,  the  position 
was  one  of  great  perplexity :  for  though  Massena's  divi- 
sion from  the  Adige  was  now  beginning  to  come  into 
touch  with  Bonaparte's  chief  force,  yet  the  fronts  of 
Wurmser's  columns  were  menacing  the  French  from  that 
side,  while  the  troops  of  Quosdanovich,  hovering  about 
Lonato  and  Salo,  struggled  desperately  to  stretch  a 
guiding  hand  to  their  comrades  on  the  Mincio. 

Wiirmser  was  now  discovering  his  error.  Lured  towards 
Mantua  by  false  reports  that  the  French  were  still  cover- 
ing the  siege,  he  had  marched  due  south  when  he  ought  to 
have  rushed  to  the  rescue  of  his  hard-pressed  lieutenant 
at  Brescia.  Entering  Mantua,  he  enjoyed  a  brief  spell  of 
triumph,  and  sent  to  the  Emperor  Francis  the  news  of  the 
capture  of  40  French  cannon  in  the  trenches,  and  of  189 


vx  THE  FIGHTS  TOR  MAHTUA    '   j/  101 

more  on  the  banks  of  the  Po.  But,  while  he  was  indulg- 
ing the  fond  hope  that  the  French  were  in  full  retreat 
from  Italy,  came  the  startling  news  that  they  had  checked 
Quosdanovich  at  Brescia  and  Salo.  Realizing  his  errors, 
and  determining  to  retrieve  them  before  all  was  lost,  he 
at  once  pushed  on  his  vanguard  towards  Castiglione,  and 
easily  gained  that  village  and  its  castle  from  a  French 
detachment  commanded  by  General  Valette. 

The  feeble  defence  of  so  important  a  position  threw 
Bonaparte  into  one  of  those  transports  of  fury  which 
occasionally  dethroned  his  better  judgment.  Meeting 
Valette  at  Montechiaro,  he  promptly  degraded  him  to  the 
ranks,  refusing  to  listen  to  his  plea  of  having  received  a 
written  order  to  retire.  A  report  of  General  Landrieux 
asserts  that  the  rage  of  the  commander-in-chief  was  so 
extreme  as  for  the  time  even  to  impair  his  determination. 
The  outlook  was  gloomy.  The  French  seemed  about  to 
be  hemmed  in  amidst  the  broken  country  between  Cas- 
tiglione, Brescia,  and  Salo.  A  sudden  attack  on  the 
Austrians  was  obviously  the  only  safe  and  honourable 
course.  But  no  one  knew  precisely  their  numbers  or 
their  position.  Uncertainty  ever  preyed  on  Bonaparte's 
ardent  imagination.  His  was  a  mind  that  quailed  not 
before  visible  dangers ;  but,  with  all  its  powers  of  decisive 
action,  it  retained  so  much  of  Corsican  eeriness  as  to  chafe 
at  the  unknown,^  and  to  lose  for  the  moment  the  faculty 
of  forming  a  vigorous  resolution.  Like  the  python,  which 
grips  its  native  rock  by  the  tail  in  order  to  gain  its  full 
constricting  power,  so  Bonaparte  ever  needed  a  ground- 
work of  fact  for  the  due  exercise  of  his  mental  force. 

One  of  a  group  of  generals,  whom  he  had  assembled 
about  him  near  Montechiaro,  proposed  that  they  should 
ascend  the  hill  which  dominated  the  plain.  Even  from 
its  ridge  no  Austrians  were  to  be  seen.  Again  the  com- 
mander burst  forth  with  petulant  reproaches,  and  even 
talked  of  retiring  to  the  Adda.  Whereupon,  if  we  may 
trust  the  "  Memoirs "  of   General   Landrieux,  Augereau 

^See  Thi^banlVs  amnsing  acconnt  (*^  Memoirs,**  vol.  i.,  ch.  xvi.)  of 
Bonaparte's  contempt  for  any  officer  who  could  not  give  him  definite 
information,  and  of  the  devices  by  which  his  orderlies  played  on  this 
foible.    See  too  Boorrienne  for  Bonaparte*s  dislike  of  new  faces. 


102  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

protested  against  retreat,  and  promised  success  for  a  vig- 
orous charge.  ^^  I  wash  my  hands  of  it,  and  I  am  going 
away,"  replied  Bonaparte.  "  And  who  will  command,  if 
you  go?"  inquired  Augereau.  "You,"  retorted  Bona- 
parte, as  he  left  the  astonished  circle. 

However  this  may  be,  the  first  attack  on  Castiglione 
was  certainly  left  to  this  determined  fighter;  and  the 
mingling  of  boldness  and  guile  which  he  showed  on  the 
following  day  regained  for  the  French  not  only  the  vil- 
lage, but  also  the  castle,  perched  on  a  precipitous  rock. 
Yet  the  report  of  Colonel  Graham,  who  was  then  at  Mar- 
shal Wiirmser's  headquarters,  somewhat  dulls  the  lustre  of 
Augereau's  exploit ;  for  the  British  officer  asserts  that  the 
Austrian  position  had  been  taken  up  quite  by  haphazard, 
and  that  fewer  than  15,000  white-coats  were  engaged  in 
this  first  battle  of  Castiglione.  Furthermore,  the  narra- 
tives of  this  milSe  written  by  Augereau  himself  and  by 
two  other  generals,  Landrieux  and  Verdier,  who  were  dis- 
affected towards  Bonaparte,  must  naturally  be  received 
with  much  reserve.  The  effect  of  Augereau's  indomitable 
energy  in  restoring  confidence  to  the  soldiers  and  victory 
to  the  French  tricolour  was,  however,  generously  admitted 
by  the  Emperor  Napoleon ;  for,  at  a  later  time,  when  com- 
plaints were  being  made  about  Augereau,  he  generously 
exclaimed:  "Ah,  let  us  not  forget  that  he  saved  us  at 
Castiglione."^ 

While  Augereau  was  recovering  this  important  posi- 
tion, confused  conflicts  were  raging  a  few  miles  further 
north  at  Lonato.  Massena  at  first  was  driven  back  by 
the  onset  of  the  Imperialists ;  but  while  they  were  endeav- 
ouring to  envelop  the  French,  Bonaparte  arrived,  and  in 
conjunction  with  Massena  pushed  on  a  central  attack  such 
as  often  wi*ested  victory  from  the  enemy.  The  white-coats 
retired  in  disorder,  some  towards  Gavardo,  others  towards 
the  lake,  hotly  followed  by  the  French.  In  the  pursuit 
towards  Gavardo,  Bonaparte's  old  friend,  Junot,  distin- 
guished himself  by  his  dashing  valour.  He  wounded  a 
colonel,  slew  six  troopers,  and,  covered  with  wounds,  was 
finally  overthrown  into  a  ditch.     Such  is  Bonaparte's  own 

1  Marbot,  *' M^moires,**  ch.  xvi.  J.  G.,  in  his  recent  work,  <*  Etudes 
sur  la  Campagne  de  1796-97,^*  p.  115,  also  defends  Augereau. 


VI  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  108 

account.  It  is  gratifying  to  know  that  the  wounds  neither 
singly  nor  collectively  were  dangerous,  and  did  not  long 
repress  Junot's  activity.  A  tinge  of  romance  seems,  in- 
deed, to  have  gilded  many  of  these  narratives ;  and  a  criti- 
cal examination  of  the  whole  story  of  Lonato  seems  to 
suggest  doubts  whether  the  victory  was  as  decisive  as 
historians  have  often  represented.  If  the  Austrians  were 
**  thrown  back  on  Lake  Garda  and  Desenzano,"^  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  see  why  the  pursuers  did  not  drive  them  into  the 
lake.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  nearly  all  the  beaten  troops 
escaped  to  Gavardo,  while  others  joined  their  comrades 
engaged  in  the  blockade  of  Peschiera. 

A  strange  incident  serves  to  illustrate  the  hazards  of 
war  and  the  confusion  of  this  part  of  the  campaign.  A 
detachment  of  the  vanquished  Austrian  forces  some  4,000 
strong,  unable  to  join  their  comrades  at  Gavardo  or  Pes- 
chiera, and  yet  unharmed  by  the  victorious  pursuers, 
wandered  about  on  the  hills,  and  on  the  next  day  chanced 
near  Lonato  to  come  upon  a  much  smaller  detachment  of 
French.  Though  unaware  of  the  full  extent  of  their  good 
fortune,  the  Imperialists  boldly  sent  an  envoy  to  summon 
the  French  commanding  officer  to  surrender.  When  the 
bandage  was  taken  from  his  eyes,  he  was  abashed  to  find 
himself  in  the  presence  of  Bonaparte,  surrounded  by  the 
generals  of  his  staff.  The  young  commander's  eyes  flashed 
fire  at  the  seeming  insult,  and  in  tones  vibrating  with 
well-simulated  passion  he  threatened  the  envoy  with  con- 
dign punishment  for  daring  to  give  such  a  message  to  the 
commander-in-chief  at  his  headquarters  in  the  midst  of  his 
army.  Let  him  and  his  men  forthwith  lay  down  their 
arms.  Dazed  by  the  demand,  and  seeing  only  the  vic- 
torious chief  and  not  the  smallness  of  his  detachment,  4,000 
Austrians  surrendered  to  1,200  French,  or  rather  to  the 
address  and  audacity  of  one  master-mind. 

Elated  by  this  augury  of  ftirther  victory,  the  repub- 
licans prepared  for  the  decisive  blow.  Wiirmser,  though 
checked  on  August  3rd,  had  been  so  far  reinforced  from 
Mantua  as  still  to  indulge  hopes  of  driving  the  French 
from  Castiglione  and  cutting  his  way  through  to  rescue 
Quosdanovich.      He  was,   indeed,  in  honour  bound    to 

1  Jomini,  vol.  viii.,  p.  821. 


104  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

make  the  attempt ;  for  the  engagement  had  been  made, 
with  the  usual  futility  that  dogged  the  Austrian  councils, 
to  reunite  their  forces  and  fight  the  French  an  the  1th  of 
AuffU9t.  These  cast-iron  plans  were  now  adhered  to  in 
spite  of  their  dislocation  at  the  hands  of  Bonaparte  and 
Augereau.  Wiirmser's  line  stretched  from  near  the  Til- 
lage of  Medole  in  a  north-easterly  direction  across  the 
high-road  between  Brescia  and  Mantua ;  while  his  right 
wing  was  posted  in  the  hilly  country  around  Solferino. 
In  fact,  his  extreme  right  rested  on  the  tower-crowned 
heights  of  Solferino,  where  the  forces  of  Austria  two 
generations  later  maintained  so  desperate  a  defence 
against  the  onset  of  Napoleon  III.  and  his  liberating 
army. 

Owing  to  the  non-arrival  of  Mezaros'  corps  marching 
from  Legnago,  Wiirmser  mustered  scarcely  twenty-five 
thousand  men  on  his  long  line  ;  while  the  very  opportune 
approach  of  part  of  Serurier's  division,  under  the  lead  of 
Fiorella,  from  the  south,  gave  the  French  an  advantage 
even  in  numbers.  Moreover  Fiorella's  advance  on  the 
south  of  Wiirmser's  weaker  flank,  that  near  Medole, 
threatened  to  turn  it  and  endanger  the  Austrian  commu- 
nications with  Mantua.  The  Imperialists  seem  to  have 
been  unaware  of  this  danger ;  and  their  bad  scouting  here 
as  elsewhere  was  largely  responsible  for  the  issue  of  the 
day.  Wiirmser's  desire  to  stretch  a  helping  hand  to 
Quosdanovich  neai*  Lonato  and  his  confidence  in  the 
strength  of  his  own  right  wing  betrayed  him  into  a  fatal 
imprudence.  Sending  out  feelers  aft-er  his  hard-pressed 
colleague  on  the  north,  he  dangerously  prolonged  his  line, 
an  error  in  which  he  was  deftly  encouraged  by  Bonaparte, 
who  held  back  his  own  left  wing.  Meanwhile  the  French 
were  rolling  in  the  other  extremity  of  the  Austrian  line. 
Marmont,  dashing  forward  with  the  horse  artillery,  took 
the  enemy's  left  wing  in  flank  and  silenced  many  of  their 
pieces.  Under  cover  of  this  attack,  Fiorella's  division 
was  able  to  creep  up  within  striking  distance  ;  and  the 
French  cavalry,  swooping  round  the  rear  of  this  hard- 
pressed  wing,  nearly  captured  Wiirmser  and  his  sta£P.  A 
vigorous  counter-attack  by  the  Austrian  reserves,  or  an 
immediate  wheeling  round  of  the  whole  line,  was  needed 


OI.EON    AS   HBRCI)I.ES,    and 


Napolkon  in  an  HovniAN  Car. 
Egyfle  cotujiiise. 


From  Delaroche's  "  Tresor  de  Niimismadque.' 


VI  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  106 

to  repulse  this  brilliant  flank  attack ;  but  the  Austrian 
reserves  had  been  expended  in  the  north  of  their  line ; 
and  an  attempt  to  change  front,  always  a  difficult  opera- 
tion, was  crushed  by  a  headlong  charge  of  Massena's  and 
Augereau's  divisions  on  their  centre.  Before  these  at- 
tacks the  whole  Austrian  line  gave  way ;  and,  according 
to  Colonel  Graham,  nothing  but  this  retreat,  undertaken 
"  without  orders,"  saved  the  whole  force  from  being  cut 
off.  The  criticisms  of  our  officer  sufficiently  reveal  the 
cause  of  the  disaster.  The  softness  and  incapacity  of 
Wiirmser,  the  absence  of  a  responsible  second  in  command, 
the  ignorance  of  the  number  and  positions  of  the  French, 
the  determination  to  advance  towards  Castiglione  and  to 
wait  thereabouts  for  Quosdanovich  until  a  battle  could  be 
fought  with  combined  forces  on  the  7th,  the  taking  up  a 
position  almost  by  haphazard  on  the  Castiglione-Medole 
Une,  and  the  failure  to  detect  Fiorella's  approach,  present 
a  series  of  defects  and  blunders  which  might  have  given 
away  the  victory  to  a  third-rate  opponent.^ 

The  battle  was  by  no  means  sanguinary  :  it  was  a  series 
of  manoeuvres  rather  than  of  prolonged  conflicts.  Hence 
its  interest  to  all  who  by  preference  dwell  on  the  intel- 
lectual problems  of  warfare  rather  than  on  the  details  of 
fighting.  Bonaparte  had  previously  shown  that  he  could 
deal  blows  with  telling  effect.  The  ease  and  grace  of  his 
moves  at  the  second  battle  of  Castiglione  now  redeemed 
the  reputation  which  his  uncertain  behaviour  on  the  four 
preceding  days  had  somewhat  compromised. 

A  complete  and  authentic  account  of  this  week  of  con- 
fused fighting  has  never  been  written.  The  archives  of 
Vienna  have  not  as  yet  yielded  up  all  their  secrets ;  and 
the  reputations  of  so  many  French  officers  were  overclouded 
by  this  prolonged  mSlSe  as  to  render  even  the  victors' 
accounts  vague  and  inconsistent.  The  aim  of  historians 
everywhere  to  give  a  clear  and  vivid  account,  and  the 
desire  of  Napoleonic  enthusiasts  to  represent  their  hero  as 
always  thinking  clearly  and  acting  decisively,  have  fused 
trusty  ores  and  worthless  slag  into  an  alloy  which  has 
passed  for  true  metal.  But  no  student  of  Napoleon's 
"Correspondence,"  of  the  "Memoirs"  of  Marmont,  and 


1  (( 


English  Hist.  Review,"  January,  1899. 


106-  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

of  the  recitals  of  Augereau,  Dumas,  Landrieux,  Verdier, 
Despinois  and  others,  can  hope  wholly  to  unravel  the 
complications  arising  from  the  almost  continuous  conflicts 
that  extended  over  a  dozen  leagues  of  hilly  country.  War 
is  not  always  dramatic,  however  much  the  readers  of  cam- 
paigns may  yearn  after  thrilling  narratives.  In  regard  to 
this  third  act  of  the  Italian  compaign,  all  that  can  safely 
be  said  is  that  Bonaparte's  intuition  to  raise  the  siege  of 
Mantua,  in  order  that  he  might  defeat  in  detail  the  reliev- 
ing armies,  bears  the  imprint  of  genius :  but  the  execution 
of  this  difficult  movement  was  unequal,  even  at  times  halt- 
ing ;  and  the  French  army  was  rescued  from  its  difficulties 
only  by  the  grand  fighting  qualities  of  the  rank  and  file, 
and  by  the  Austrian  blunders,  which  outnumbered  those 
of  the  republican  generals. 

Neither  were  the  results  of  the  Castiglione  cycle  of  bat- 
tles quite  so  brilliant  as  have  been  represented.  Wiirmser 
and  Quosdanovich  lost  in  all  17,000  men,  it  is  true:  but 
the  former  had  re-garrisoned  and  re-victualled  Mantua, 
besides  capturing  all  the  French  siege-train.  Bonaparte's 
primary  aim  had  been  to  reduce  Mantua,  so  that  he  might 
be  free  to  sweep  through  Tyrol,  join  hands  with  Moreau, 
and  overpower  the  white-coats  in  Bavaria.  The  aim  of 
the  Aulic  Council  and  Wiirmser  had  been  to  relieve  Mantua 
and  restore  the  Hapsburg  rule  over  Lombardy.  Neither 
side  had  succeeded.  But  the  Austrians  could  at  least 
point  to  some  successes ;  and,  above  all,  Mantua  was  in  a 
better  state  of  defence  than  when  the  French  first  ap- 
proached its  walls :  and  while  Mantua  was  intact,  Bona- 
parte was  held  to  the  valley  of  the  Mincio,  and  could  not 
deal  those  lightning  blows  on  the  Inn  and  the  Danube 
which  he  ever  regarded  as  the  climax  of  the  campaign. 
Viewed  on  its  material  side,  his  position  was  no  better 
than  it  was  before  Wiirmser's  incursion  into  the  plains  of 
Venetia.^ 

With  true  Hapsburg  t&acity,  Francis  determinfid  on 

1  Such  is  the  judgment  of  Clausewitz  ("  V7erke,"  vol.  iv.),  and  it  is 
partly  endorsed  by  J.  G.  in  his  "  Etudes  sur  la  Campagne  de  1790-97." 
St.  Cyr,  in  his  *^ Memoirs"  on  the  Rhenish  campaigns,  also  blames  Bona- 
parte for  not  having  earlier  sent  away  his  siege-train  to  a  place  of  safety. 
Its  loss  made  the  resumed  siege  of  Mantua  little  more  than  a  blockade. 


▼I  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  107 

further  efforts  for  the  relief  of  Mantua.  Apart  from  the 
promptings  of  dynastic  pride,  his  reason  for  thus  obstinately 
struggling  against  Alpine  gorges,  Italian  sentiment,  and 
Bonaparte's  genius,  are  wellnigh  inscrutable ;  and  military 
writers  have  generally  condemned  this  waste  of  resources 
on  the  Brenta,  which,  if  hurled  against  the  French  on  the 
Rhine,  would  have  compelled  the  withdrawal  of  Bonaparte 
from  Italy  for  the  defence  of  Lorraine.  But  the  pride  of 
the  Emperor  Francis  brooked  no  surrender  of  his  Italian 
possessions,  and  again  Wiirmser  was  spurred  on  from 
Vienna  to  another  invasion  of  Venetia.  It  would  be 
tedious  to  give  an  account  of  Wiirmser's  second  attempt, 
which  belongs  rather  to  the  domain  of  political  fatuity 
than  that  of  military  history.  Colonel  Graham  states  that 
the  Austrian  rank  and  file  laughed  at  their  generals,  and 
bitterly  complained  that  they  were  being  led  to  the  sham- 
bles, while  the  officers  almost  openly  exclaimed :  "  We  must 
make  peace,  for  we  don't  know  how  to  make  war."  This 
was  again  apparent.  Bonaparte  forestalled  their  attack. 
Their  divided  forces  fell  an  easy  prey  to  Massena,  who  at 
Bassano  cut  Wiirmser's  force  to  pieces  and  sent  the  dSbris 
flying  down  the  valley  of  the  Brenta.  Losing  most  of  their 
artillery,  and  separated  in  two  chief  bands,  the  Imperial- 
ists seemed  doomed  to  surrender :  but  Wiirmser,  doubling 
on  his  pursuers,  made  a  dash  westwards,  finally  cutting 
his  way  to  Mantua.  There  again  he  vainly  endeavoured 
to  make  a  stand.  He  was  driven  from  his  positions  in 
front  of  St.  Georges  and  La  Favorita,  and  was  shut  up 
in  the  town  itself.  This  addition  to  the  numbers  of  the 
garrison  was  no  increase  to  its  strength ;  for  the  fortress, 
though  well  provisioned  for  an  ordinary  garrison,  could 
not  support  a  prolonged  blockade,  and  the  fevers  of  the 
early  autumn  soon  began  to  decimate  troops  worn  out  by 
forced  marches  and  unable  to  endure  the  miasma  ascend- 
ing from  the  marshes  of  the  Mincio. 

The  French  also  were  wearied  by  their  exertions  in  the 
fierce  heats  of  September.  Murmurs  were  heard  in  the 
ranks  and  at  the  mess  tables  that  Bonaparte's  reports  of 
these  exploits  were  tinged  by  favouritism  and  by  undue 
severity  against  those  whose  fortune  had  been  less  con- 
spicuous than  their  merits.     One  of  these  misunderstand- 


108  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

ings  was  of  some  importance.  Massena,  whose  services 
had  been  brilliant  at  Bassano  but  less  felicitous  since  the 
crossing  of  the  Adige,  reproached  Bonaparte  for  denying 
praise  to  the  most  deserving  and  lavishing  it  on  men  who 
had  come  in  opportunely  to  reap  the  labours  of  others. 
His  written  protest,  urged  with  the  old  republican  frank- 
ness, only  served  further  to  cloud  over  the  relations  be- 
tween them,  which,  since  Lonato,  had  not  been  cordial.^ 
Even  thus  early  in  his  career  Bonaparte  gained  the  repu- 
tation of  desiring  brilliant  and  entire  success,  and  of  vis- 
iting with  his  displeasure  men  who,  from  whatever  cause, 
did  not  wrest  from  Fortune  her  utmost  favours.  That  was 
his  own  mental  attitude  towards  the  fickle  goddess.  After 
entering  Milan  he  cynically  remarked  to  Marmont:  "For- 
tune is  a  woman ;  and  the  more  she  does  for  me,  the  more 
I  will  require  of  her."  Suggestive  words,  which  explain  at 
once  the  splendour  of  his  rise  and  the  rapidity  of  his  faU. 
During  the  few  weeks  of  comparative  inaction  which 
ensued,  the  affairs  of  Italy  claimed  his  attention.  The 
prospect  of  an  Austrian  re-conquest  had  caused  no  less 
concern  to  the  friends  of  liberty  in  the  peninsula  than  joy 
to  the  reactionary  coteries  of  the  old  sovereigns.  At 
Rome  and  Naples  threats  against  the  French  were  whis- 
pered or  openly  vaunted.  The  signature  of  the  treaties 
of  peace  was  delayed,  and  the  fulminations  of  the  Vatican 
were  prepared  against  the  sacrilegious  spoilers.  After 
the  Austrian  war-cloud  had  melted  away,  the  time  had 
come  to  punish  prophets  of  evil.  The  Duke  of  Modena 
was  charged  with  allowing  a  convoy  to  pass  from  his  State 
to  the  garrison  of  Mantua,  and  with  neglecting  to  pay  the 
utterly  impossible  fine  to  which  Bonaparte  had  condemned 
him.  The  men  of  Reggio  and  Modena  were  also  encour- 
aged to  throw  off  his  yoke  and  to  confide  in  the  French. 
Those  of  Reggio  succeeded ;  but  in  the  city  of  Modena 
itself  the  ducal  troops  repressed  the  rising.  Bonaparte 
accordingly  asked  the  advice  of  the  Directory ;  but  his 
resolution  was  already  formed.  Two  days  after  seeking 
their  counsel,  he  took  the  decisive  step  of  declaring  Mo- 
dena and  Reggio  to  be  under  the  protection  of  France. 
This  act  formed  an  exceedingly  important  departure  in 

^  Koch,  **  M^moires  de  Maas^na,"  vol.  i.,  p.  199. 


▼I  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  109 

the  history  of  France  as  well  as  in  that  of  Italy.  Hitherto 
the  Directory  had  succeeded  in  keeping  Bonaparte  from 
active  intervention  in  affairs  of  high  policy.  *  In  particular, 
it  had  enjoined  on  him  the  greatest  prudence  with  regard 
to  the  liberated  lands  of  Italy,  so  as  not  to  involve  France 
in  prolonged  intervention  in  the  peninsula,  or  commit  her 
to  a  war  d  ovirance  with  the  Hapsburgs  ;  and  its  warnings 
were'  now  urged  with  all  the  greater  emphasis  because 
news  had  recently  reached  Paris  of  a  serious  disaster  to 
the  French  arms  in  Germany.  But  while  the  Directors 
counselled  prudence,  Bonaparte  forced  their  hand  by  de- 
claring the  Duchy  of  Modena  to  be  under  the  protection 
of  France  ;  and  when  their  discreet  missive  reached  him, 
he  expressed  to  them  his  regret  that  it  had  come  too  late. 
By  that  time  (October  24th)  he  had  virtually  founded  a 
new  State,  for  whose  security  French  honour  was  deeply 
pledged.  This  implied  the  continuance  of  the  French 
occupation  of  Northern  Italy  and  therefore  a  prolongation 
of  Bonaparte's  command. 

It  was  not  the  Duchy  of  Modena  alone  which  felt  the 
invigorating  influence  of  democracy  and  nationality.  The 
Papal  cities  of  Bologna  and  Ferrara  had  broken  away 
from  the  Papal  sway,  and  now  sent  deputies  to  meet  the 
champions  of  liberty  at  Modena  and  found  a  free  com- 
monwealth. There  amidst  great  enthusiasm  was  held 
the  first  truly  representative  Italian  assembly  that  had 
met  for  many  generations;  and  a  levy  of  2,800  volun- 
teers, styled  the  Italian  legion,  was  decreed.  Bonaparte 
visited  these  towns,  stimulated  their  energy,  and  bade 
the  turbulent  beware  of  his  vengeance,  which  would  be 
like  that  of  ^Hhe  exterminating  angel."  In  a  brief  space 
these  districts  were  formed  into  the  Cispadane  Republic, 
destined  soon  to  be  merged  into  a  yet  larger  creation.  A 
new  life  breathed  from  Modena  and  Bologna  into  Central 
Italy.  The  young  republic  forthwith  abolished  all  feudal 
laws,  decreed  civic  equality,  and  ordered  the  convocation 
at  Bologna  of  a  popularly  elected  Assembly  for  the  Christ- 
mas following.  These  events  mark  the  first  stage  in  the 
beginning  of  that  grand  movement,  H  Risorgimento^  which 
after  long  delays  was  finally  consummated  in  1870. 

This  period  of  Bonaparte's  career  may  well  be  lingered 


110  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  1  chap. 

over  by  those  who  value  his  invigorating  influence  on 
Italian  life  more  highly  than  his  military  triumphs.  At 
this  epoch  he  was  still  the  champion  of  the  best  prin- 
ciples of  the  Revolution ;  he  had  overthrown  Austrian 
domination  in  the  peninsula,  and  had  shaken  to  their 
base  domestic  tyrannies  worse  than  that  of  the  Haps- 
burgs.  His  triiunphs  were  as  yet  untarnished.  If  we 
except  the  plundering  of  the  liberated  and  conquered 
lands,  an  act  for  which  the  Directory  was  primarily  re- 
sponsible, nothing  was  at  this  time  lacking  to  the  full 
orb  of  his  glory.  An  envoy  bore  him  the  welcome  news 
that  the  English,  wearied  bv  the  intractable  Corsicans, 
had  evacuated  the  island  of  his  birth ;  and  he  forthwith 
arranged  for  the  return  of  many  of  the  exiles  who  had 
been  faithful  to  the  French  Republic.  Among  these  was 
Salicetti,  who  now  returned  for  a  time  to  his  old  insular 
sphere ;  while  his  former  protSgS  was  winning  a  world- 
wide fame.  Then,  turning  to  the  affairs  of  Central  Italy, 
the  young  commander  showed  his  diplomatic  talents  to  be 
not  a  whit  inferior  to  his  genius  for  war.  One  instance 
of  this  must  here  suffice.  He  besought  the  Pope,  who  had 
broken  off  the  lingering  negotiations  with  France,  not  to 
bring  on  his  people  the  horrors  of  war.i  The  beauty  of 
this  appeal,  as  also  of  a  somewhat  earlier  appeal  to  the  Em- 
peror Francis  at  Vienna,  is,  however,  considerably  marred 
by  other  items  which  now  stand  revealed  in  Bonaparte's 
instructive  correspondence.  After  hearing  of  the  French 
defeats  in  Germany,  he  knew  that  the  Directors  could  spare 
him  very  few  of  the  25,000  troops  whom  he  demanded  as 
reinforcements.  He  was  also  aware  that  the  Pope,  in- 
censed at  his  recent  losses  in  money  and  lands,  was  seek- 
ing to  revivify  the  First  Coalition.  The  pacific  precepts 
addressed  by  the  young  Corsican  to  the  Papacy  must 
therefore  be  viewed  in  the  light  of  merely  mundane 
events  and  of  his  secret  advice  to  the  French  agent  at 
Rome :  "  The  great  thing  is  to  gain  time.  .  .  .  Finally, 
the  game  really  is  for  us  to  throw  the  ball  from  one  to 
the  other,  so  as  to  deceive  this  old  fox."^ 

1  "Corresp.,"  October  2l8t,  1796. 

8  "Corresp.,"  October  24tii,  1796.  The  same  policy  was  employed 
towards  Genoa.  This  republic  was  to  be  lulled  into  security  until  it 
could  easily  be  overthrown  or  absorbed. 


VI  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  111 

From  these  diplomatic  amenities  the  general  was 
forced  to  turn  to  the  hazards  of  war.  Gauging  Bona- 
parte's missive  at  its  true  worth,  the  Emperor  determined 
to  re-conquer  Italy,  an  enterprise  that  seemed  weU  within 
his  powers.  In  the  month  of  October  victory  had 
crowned  the  efforts  of  his  troops  in  Germany.  At 
Wiirzburg  the  Archduke  Charles  had  completely  beaten 
Jourdan,  and  had  thrown  both  his  army  and  that  of 
Moreau  back  on  the  Rhine.  Animated  by  reviving 
hopes,  the  Imperialists  now  assembled  some  60,000  strong. 
Alvintzy,  a  veteran  of  sixty  years,  renowned  for  his 
bravery,  but  possessing  little  strategic  abUity,  was  in 
command  of  some  35,000  men  in  the  district  of  Friuli, 
north  of  Trieste,  covering  that  seaport  from  a  threatened 
French  attack.  With  this  large  force  he  was  to  advance 
due  west,  towards  the  River  Brenta,  while  Davidovich, 
marching  through  Tyrol  by  the  valley  of  the  Adige,  was 
to  meet  him  with  the  remainder  near  Verona.  As  Jomini 
has  observed,  the  Austrians  gave  themselves  infinite 
trouble  and  encountered  grave  risks  in  order  to  compass  a 
junction  of  forces  which  they  might  quietly  have  effected 
at  the  outset.  Despite  all  Bonaparte's  lessons,  the  Aulic 
Council  still  clung  to  its  old  plan  of  enveloping  the  foe 
and  seeking  to  bewilder  them  by  attacks  delivered  from 
different  sides.  Possibly  also  they  were  emboldened  by 
the  comparative  smallness  of  Bonaparte's  numbers  to 
repeat  this  hazardous  manoeuvre.  The  French  could 
muster  little  more  than  40,000  men  ;  and  of  these  at  least 
8,000  were  needed  opposite  Mantua. 

At  first  the  Imperialists  gained  important  successes ; 
for  though  the  French  held  their  own  on  the  Brenta,  yet 
their  forces  in  the  Tyrol  were  driven  down  the  valley  of 
the  Adige  with  losses  so  considerable  that  Bonaparte 
was  constrained  to  order  a  general  retreat  on  Verona. 
He  discerned  that  from  this  central  position  he  could 
hold  in  check  Alvintzy's  troops  marching  westwards  from 
Vicenza  and  prevent  their  junction  with  the  Imperialists 
under  Davidovich,  who  were  striving  to  thrust  Vaubois' 
division  from  the  plateau  of  Rivoli. 

But  before  offering  battle  to  Alvintzy  outside  Verona, 
Bonaparte  paid  a  fi}n[ng  visit  to  his  men  posted  on  that 


112  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

plateau  in  order  to  rebuke  the  wavering  and  animate  the 
whole  body  with  his  own  dauntless  spirit.  Forming  the 
troops  around  him,  he  addressed  two  regiments  in  tones 
of  grief  and  anger.  He  reproached  them  for  abandoning 
strong  positions  in  a  panic,  and  ordered  his  chief  staff 
officer  to  inscribe  on  their  colours  the  ominous  words  : 
"They  are  no  longer  of  the  Army  of  Italy." ^  Stung  by 
this  reproach,  the  men  begged  with  sobs  that  the  general 
would  test  their  valour  before  disgracing  them  for  ever. 
The  young  commander,  who  must  have  counted  on  such 
a  result  to  his  words,  when  uttered  to  French  soldiers, 
thereupon  promised  to  listen  to  their  appeals  ;  and  their 
bravery  in  the  ensuing  fights  wiped  every  stain  of  dis- 
grace from  their  colours.  By  such  acts  as  these  did  he 
nerve  his  men  against  superior  numbers  and  adverse 
fortune. 

Their  fortitude  was  to  be  severely  tried  at  all  points. 
Alvintzy  occupied  a  strong  position  on  a  line  of  hills  at 
Caldiero,  a  few  miles  to  the  east  of  Verona.  His  right 
wing  was  protected  by  the  spurs  of  the  Tyrolese  Alps, 
while  his  left  was  flanked  by  the  marshes  which  stretch 
between  the  rivers  Alpon  and  Adige ;  and  he  protected 
his  front  by  cannon  skilfully  ranged  along  the  hills.  All 
the  bravery  of  Massena's  troops  failed  to  dislodge  the 
right  wing  of  the  Imperialists.  The  French  centre  was 
torn  by  the  Austrian  cannon  and  musketry.  A  pitiless 
storm  of  rain  and  sleet  hindered  the  advance  of  the  French 
guns  and  unsteadied  the  aim  of  the  gunners ;  and  finally 
they  withdrew  into  Verona,  leaving  behind  2,000  killed 
and  wounded,  and  750  prisoners  (November  12th).  This 
defeat  at  Caldiero  —  for  it  is  idle  to  speak  of  it  merely  as 
a  check  —  opened  up  a  gloomy  vista  of  disasters  for  the 
French;  and  Bonaparte,  though  he  disguised  his  fears 
before  his  staff  and  the  soldiery,  forthwith  wrote  to  the 
Directors  that  the  army  felt  itself  abandoned  at  the  fur- 
ther end  of  Italy,  and  that  this  fair  conquest  seemed  about 
to  be  lost.  With  his  usual  device  of  under-rating  his  own 
forces  and  exaggerating  those  of  his  foes,  he  stated  that 
the  French  both  at  Verona  Jind  Rivoli  were  only  18,000, 
while  the  grand  total  of  tlie  Imperialists  was  upwards  of 

1  "  Ordre  du  Jour/'  November  7th,  1796. 


VI  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  118 

50,000.  But  he  must  have  known  that  for  the  present  he 
had  to  deal  with  rather  less  than  half  that  number.  The 
greater  part  of  the  Tyrolese  force  had  not  as  yet  descended 
the  Adige  below  Roveredo ;  and  allowing  for  detachments 
and  losses,  Alvintzy's  array  at  Caldiero  barely  exceeded 
20,000  effectives. 

Bonaparte  now  determined  to  hazard  one  of  the  most 
daring  turning  movements  which  history  records.  It  was 
necessary  at  all  costs  to  drive  Alvintzy  from  the  heights 
of  Caldiero  before  the  Tyrolese  columns  should  over- 
power Vaubois'  detachment  at  Rivoli  and  debouch  in  the 
plains  west  of  Verona.  But,  as  Caldiero  could  not  be 
taken  by  a  front  attack,  it  must  be  turned  by  a  flanking 
movement.  To  any  other  general  than  Bonaparte  this 
would  have  appeared  hopeless  ;  but  where  others  saw 
nothing  but  difficulties,  his  eye  discerned  a  means  of 
safety.  South  and  south-east  of  those  hills  lies  a  vast  de- 
pression swamped  by  the  flood  waters  of  the  Alpon  and  the 
Adige.  Morasses  stretch  for  some  miles  west  of  the  vil- 
lage of  Areola,  through  which  runs  a  road  up  the  eastern 
bank  of  the  Alpon,  crossing  that  stream  at  the  aforenamed 
village  and  leading  to  the  banks  of  the  Adige  opposite  the 
village  of  Ronco;  another  causeway,  diverging  from  the 
former  a  little  to  the  north  of  Ronco,  lea<&  in  a  north- 
westerly direction  towards  Porcil.  By  advancing  from 
Ronco  along  these  causeways,  and  by  seizing  Areola,  Bona- 
parte designed  to  outflank  the  Austrians  and  tempt  them 
into  an  arena  where  the  personal  prowess  of  the  French 
veterans  would  have  ample  scope,  and  where  numbers 
would  be  of  secondary  importance.  Only  heads  of  col- 
umns could  come  into  direct  contact ;  and  the  formidable 
Austrian  cavalry  could  not  display  its  usual  prowess.  On 
these  facts  Bonaparte  counted  as  a  set-off  to  his  slight 
inferiority  in  numbers. 

In  the  dead  of  night  the  divisions  of  Augereau  and 
Massena  retired  through  Verona.  Officers  and  soldiers 
were  alike  deeply  discouraged  by  this  movement,  which 
seemed  to  presage  a  retreat  towacds  the  Mincio  and  the 
abandonment  of  Lombardy.  To  their  surprise,  when 
outside  the  gate  they  received  the  order  to  turn  to  the 
left  down  the  western  bank  of  the  Adige.     At  Ronco  the 


114  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chaf. 

mystery  was  solved.  A  bridge  of  boats  had  there  been 
thrown  across  the  Adige ;  and,  crossing  this  without 
opposition,  Augereau's  troops  rapidly  advanced  along  the 
causeway  leading  to  Areola  and  menaced  the  Austrian 
rear,  while  Massena's  column  defiled  north-west,  so  as 
directly  to  threaten  his  flank  at  Caldiero.  The  surprise, 
however,  was  by  no  means  complete ;  for  Alvintzy  him- 
self purposed  to  cross  the  Adige  at  Zevio,  so  as  to  make 
a  dash  on  Mantua,  and  in  order  to  protect  his  flank  he  had 
sent  a  detachment  of  Croats  to  hold  Areola.  These  now 
stoutly  disputed  Augereau's  progress,  pouring  in  from  the 
loopholed  cottages  volleys  which  tore  away  the  front  of 
every  column  of  attack.  In  vain  did  Augereau,  seizing 
the  colours,  lead  his  foremost  regiment  to  the  bridge  of 
Areola.  Riddled  by  the  musketry,  his  men  fell  back  in 
disorder.  In  vain  did  Bonaparte  himself,  dismounting 
from  his  charger,  seize  a  flag,  rally  these  veterans  and  lead 
them  towards  the  bridge.  The  Croats,  constantly  rein- 
forced, poured  in  so  deadly  a  fire  as  to  check  the  advance: 
Muiron,  Marmont,  and  a  handful  of  gallant  men  still 
pressed  on,  thereby  screening  the  body  of  their  chief ;  but 
Muiron  fell  dead,  and  another  officer,  seizing  Bonaparte, 
sought  to  drag  him  back  from  certain  death.  The  column 
wavered  under  the  bullets,  fell  back  to  the  further  side  of 
the  causeway,  and  in  the  confusion  the  commander  fell 
into  the  deep  dyke  at  the  side.  Agonized  at  the  sight, 
the  French  rallied,  while  Marmont  and  Louis  Bonaparte 
rescued  their  beloved  chief  from  capture  or  from  a  miry 
death,  and  he  retired  to  Ronco,  soon  followed  by  the  wea- 
ried troops.i  This  memorable  first  day  of  fighting  at 
Areola  (November  15th)  closed  on  the  strange  scene  of 
two  armies  encamped  on  dykes,  exhausted  by  an  almost 
amphibious  conflict,  like  that  waged  by  the  Dutch  "Beg- 

^  Marmont,  '^Mtooires,"  vol.  i.,  p.  237.  I  have  followed  Marmont's 
narrative,  as  that  of  the  chief  actor  in  this  strange  scene.  It  is  less  dra- 
matic than  the  usual  account,  as  found  in  Thiers,  and  therefore  is  more 
probable.  The  incident  illustrates  the  folly  of  a  commander  doing  the 
work  of  a  sergeant.  Marmont  points  out  that  the  best  tactics  would  have 
been  to  send  one  division  to  cross  the  Adige  at  Albaredo,  and  so  take 
Areola  in  the  rear.  Thiers*  criticism,  that  this  would  have  involved  too 
<^eat  a  diffusion  of  the  French  line,  is  refuted  by  the  fact  that  on  tho 
third  day  a  move  on  that  side  induced  the  Austrians  to  evacuate  Areola. 


▼I 


THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA 


115 


gars  "  in  their  war  of  liberation  against  Spain.  Though 
at  Areola  the  republicans  had  been  severely  checked,  yet 
further  west  Massena  had  held  his  own ;  and  the  French 
movement  as  a  whole  had  compelled  Alvintzy  to  suspend 
any  advance  on  Verona  or  on  Mantua,  to  come  down  from 


"I 


aCAkS      or    MlkCS 


Flak  to  illustrate  th£  Victost  of  Abcola. 


the  heights  of  Caldiero,  and  to  fight  on  ground  where  his 
superior  numbers  were  of  little  avail.  This  was  seen  on 
the  second  day  of  fighting  on  the  dykes  opposite  Areola, 
which  was,  on  the  whole,  favourable  to  the  smaller  veteran 
force.     On  the  third  day  Bonaparte  employed  a  skilful 


116  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

ruse  to  add  to  the  discouragement  of  his  foes.  He  posted 
a  small  body  of  horsemen  behind  a  spinney  near  the  Aus- 
trian flank,  with  orders  to  sound  their  trumpets  as  if  for  a 
great  cavalry  charge.  Alarmed  by  the  noise  and  by  the 
appearance  of  French  troops  from  the  side  of  Legnago  and 
behind  Areola,  the  demoralized  white-coats  suddenly  gave 
way  and  retreated  for  Vicenza. 

Victory  again  declared  for  the  troops  who  could  dare 
the  longest,  and  whose  general  was  never  at  a  loss  in  face 
of  any  definite  danger.  Both  armies  suffered  severely  in 
these  desperate  conflicts ;  ^  but,  while  the  Austrians  felt 
that  the  cup  of  victory  had  been  snatched  from  their  very 
lips,  the  French  soldiery  were  dazzled  by  this  transcendent 
exploit  of  their  chief.  They  extolled  his  bravery,  which 
almost  vied  with  the  fabulous  achievement  of  Horatius 
Codes,  and  adored  the  genius  which  saw  safety  and  vic- 
tory for  his  discouraged  army  amidst  swamps  and  dykes. 
Bonaparte  himself,  with  that  strange  mingling  of  the  prac- 
tical and  the  superstitious  which  forms  the  charm  of  his 
character,  ever  afterwards  dated  the  dawn  of  his  fortune 
in  its  full  splendour  from  those  hours  of  supreme  crisis 
among  the  morasses  of  Areola.  But  we  may  doubt  whether 
this  posing  as  the  favourite  of  fortune  was  not  the  result 
of  his  profound  knowledge  of  the  credulity  of  the  vulgar 
herd,  which  admires  genius  and  worships  bravery,  but 
grovels  before  persistent  good  luck. 

Though  it  is  difficult  to  exaggerate  the  skill  and  bravery 
of  the  French  leader  and  his  troops,  the  failure  of  his  op- 
ponents is  inexplicable  but  for  the  fact  that  most  of  their 
troops  were  unable  to  manoeuvre  steadily  in  the  open,  that 
Alvintzy  was  inexperienced  as  a  commander-in-chief,  and 
was  hampered  throughout  by  a  bad  plan  of  campaign. 
Meanwhile  the  other  Austrian  army,  led  by  Davidovich, 
had  driven  Vaubois  from  his  position  at  Rivoli ;  and  had 
the  Imperialist  generals  kept  one  another  informed  of  their 
moves,  or  had  Alvintzy,  disregarding  a  blare  of  trumpets 
and  a  demonstration  on  his  flank  and  rear,  clung  to  Areola 

1  Koch,  **  Mtooires  de  Mass^na,**  vol.  i.,  p.  255,  in  his  very  complete 
account  of  the  battle,  gives  the  enemy's  losses  as  upwards  of  2,000  killed 
or  wounded,  and  4,000  prisoners  with  11  cannon.  Thiers  gives  40,000  as 
Alvintzy'B  force  before  the  battle — an  impossible  numbei'.    See  ante. 


▼I  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  117 

for  two  days  longer,  the  French  would  have  been  nipped 
between  superior  forces.  But,  as  it  was,  the  lack  of  accord 
in  the  Austrian  movements  nearly  ruined  the  Tyrolese 
wing,  which  pushed  on  triumphantly  towards  Verona, 
while  Alvintzy  was  retreating  eastwards.  Warned  just 
in  time,  Davidovich  hastily  retreated  to  Roveredo,  leav- 
ing a  whole  battalion  in  the  hands  of  the  French.  To 
crown  this  chapter  of  blunders,  Wiirmser,  whose  sortie 
after  Caldiero  might  have  been  most  effective,  tardily 
essayed  to  break  through  the  blockaders,  when  both  his 
colleagues  were  in  retreat.  How  different  were  these  ill- 
assorted  moves  from  those  of  Bonaparte.  His  maxims 
throughout  this  campaign,  and  his  whole  military  career, 
were:  (1)  divide  for  foraging,  concentrate  for  fighting; 
(2)  unity  of  command  is  essential  for  success ;  (3)  time  is 
evervthing.  This  firm  grasp  of  the  essentials  of  modern 
warfare  insured  his  triumph  over  enemies  who  trusted  to 
obsolete  methods  for  the  defence  of  antiquated  polities.^ 
The  battle  of  Areola  had  an  important  influence  on  the 
fate  of  Italy  and  Europe.  In  the  peninsula  all  the  ele- 
ments hostile  to  the  republicans  were  preparing  for  an 
explosion  in  their  rear  which  should  reaffirm  the  old  say- 
ing that  Italy  was  the  tomb  of  the  French.  Naples  had 
signed  terms  of  peace  with  them,  it  is  true ;  but  the  natural 
animosity  of  the  Vatican  against  its  despoilers  could  easily 
have  leagued  the  south  of  Italy  with  the  other  States  that 
were  working  secretly  for  their  expulsion.  While  the  Aus- 
trians  were  victoriously  advancing,  these  aims  were  almost 
openly  avowed,  and  at  the  close  of  the  year  1796  Bona- 
parte moved  south  to  Bologna  in  order  to  guide  the  Italian 
patriots  in  their  deliberations  and  menace  the  Pope  with 
an  invasion  of  the  Roman  States.  From  this  the  Pontiff 
was  for  the  present  saved  by  new  efforts  on  the  part  of 
Austria.  But  before  describing  the  final  attempt  of  the 
Hapsburgs  to  wrest  Italy  from  their  able  adversary,  it  will 
be  well  to  notice  his  growing  ascendancy  in  diplomatic 
affairs. 

^  The  Austrian  official  figures  for  the  loss  in  the  three  days  at  Areola 
give  2,046  killed  and  wounded,  4,090  prisoners,  and  11  cannon.  Napoleon 
put  it  down  as  13,000  in  all!  See  Schels  in  ''Oest  Milit.  Zeitschrift'' 
for  1829. 


118  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

While  Bonaparte  was  struggling  in  the  marshes  of  Areola, 
the  Directory  was  on  the  point  of  sending  to  Vienna  an 
envoy,  General  Clarke,  with  proposals  for  an  armistice  pre- 
liminary to  negotiations  for  peace  with  Austria.  This  step 
was  taken,  because  France  was  distracted  by  open  revolt 
in  the  south,  by  general  discontent  in  the  west,  and  by 
the  retreat  of  her  Rhenish  armies,  now  flung  back  on  the 
soil  of  the  Republic  by  the  Austrian  Archduke  Charles. 
Unable  to  support  large  forces  in  the  east  of  France  out 
of  its  bankrupt  exchequer,  the  Directory  desired  to  be 
informed  of  the  state  of  feeling  at  Vienna.  It  therefore 
sent  Clarke  with  offers,  which  might  enable  him  to  look 
into  the  political  and  military  situation  at  the  enemy's 
capital,  and  see  whether  peace  could  not  be  gained  at  ^e 
price  of  some  of  Bonaparte's  conquests.  The  envoy  was 
an  elegant  and  ambitious  young  man,  descended  from 
an  Irish  family  long  settled  in  France,  who  had  recently 
gained  Carnot's  favour,  and  now  desired  to  show  his  dip- 
lomatic skill  by  subjecting  Bonaparte  to  the  present  aims 
of  the  Directory. 

The  Directors'  secret  instructions  reveal  the  plans  which 
they  then  harboured  for  the  reconstruction  of  the  Conti- 
nent. Having  arranged  an  armistice  which  should  last 
up  to  the  end  of  the  next  spring,  Clarke  was  to  set  forth 
arrangements  which  might  suit  the  House  of  Hapsburg. 
He  might  discuss  the  restitution  of  all  their  possessions  in 
Italy,  and  the  acquisition  of  the  Bishopric  of  Salzburg 
and  other  smaller  German  and  Swabian  territories :  or, 
if  she  did  not  recover  the  Milanese,  Austria  might  gain 
the  northern  parts  of  the  Papal  States  as  compensation ; 
and  the  Duke  of  Tuscany  —  a  Hapsburg  —  might  reign 
at  Rome,  yielding  up  his  duchy  to  the  Duke  of  Parma ; 
while,  as  this  last  potentate  was  a  Spanish  Bourbon, 
France  might  for  her  good  offices  to  this  House  gain 
largely  from  Spain  in  America.^  In  these  and  other  pro- 
posals two  methods  of  bargaining  are  everywhere  promi- 
nent. The  great  States  are  in  every  case  to  gain  at  the 
expense  of  their  weaker  neighbours  ;  Austria  is  to  be 
appeased ;   and  France  is  to  reap  enormous  gains  ulti- 

^  A  forecast  of  the  plan  realized  in  1801-2,  whereby  Bonaparte  gained 
Louisiana  for  a  time. 


Ti  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MAKTUA  110 

mately  at  the  expense  of  smaller  Germanic  or  Italian 
States.  These  facts  should  clearly  be  noted.  Napoleon 
was  afterwards  deservedly  blamed  for  carrying  out  these 
unprincipled  methods ;  but,  at  the  worst,  he  only  devel- 
oped them  from  those  of  the  Directors,  who,  with  the  cant 
of  Liberty,  Equality,  and  Fraternity  on  their  lips,  battened 
on  the  plunder  of  the  liberated  lands,  and  cynically  pro- 
posed to  share  the  spoil  of  weaker  States  with  the  poten- 
tates against  whom  they  publicly  declaimed  as  tyrants. 

The  chief  aim  of  these  negotiations,  so  Clarke  was 
assured,  was  to  convince  the  Court  of  Vienna  that  it 
would  get  better  terms  by  treating  with  France  directly 
and  alone,  rather  than  by  joining  in  the  negotiations 
which  had  recently  been  opened  at  Paris  by  England. 
But  the  Viennese  Ministers  refused  to  allow  Clarke  to 
proceed  to  their  capital,  and  appointed  Vicenza  as  the 
seat  of  the  deliberations. 

They  were  brief.  Through  the  complex  web  of  civilian 
intrigue,  Bonaparte  forthwith  thrust  the  mailed  hand  of 
the  warrior.  He  had  little  difficulty  in  proving  to  Clarke 
that  the  situation  was  materially  altered  by  the  battle  of 
Areola.  The  fall  of  Mantua  was  now  only  a  matter  of 
weeks.  To  allow  its  provisions  to  be  replenished  for  the 
term  of  the  armistice  was  an  act  that  no  successful  gen- 
eral could  tolerate.  For  that  fortress  the  whole  campaign 
had  been  waged,  and  three  Austrian  armies  had  been 
hurled  back  into  Tyrol  and  Friuli.  Was  it  now  to  be 
provisioned,  in  order  that  the  Directory  might  barter 
away  the  Cispadane  Republic?  He  speedily  convinced 
Clarke  of  the  fatuity  of  the  Directors'  proposals.  He 
imbued  him  with  his  own  contempt  for  an  armistice  that 
would  rob  the  victors  of  their  prize  ;  and,  as  the  Court  of 
Vienna  still  indulged  hopes  of  success  in  Italy,  Clarke's 
negotiations  at  Vicenza  came  to  a  speedy  conclusion. 

In  another  important  matter  the  Directory  also  com- 
pletely failed.  Nervous  as  to  Bonaparte's  ambition,  it 
had  secretly  ordered  Clarke  to  watch  his  conduct  and 
report  privately  to  Paris.  Whether  warned  by  a  friend 
at  Court,  or  forearmed  by  his  own  sagacity,  Bonaparte 
knew  of  this,  and  in  his  intercourse  with  Clarke  deftly 
let  the  fact  be  seen.     He  quickly  gauged  Clarke's  powers, 


120  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

and  the  aim  of  his  mission.  ^^  He  is  a  spy,"  he  remarked 
a  little  later  to  Miot,  "  whom  the  Directory  have  set  upon 
me:  he  is  a  man  of  no  talent — only  conceited."  The 
splendour  of  his  achievements  and  the  mingled  grace  and 
authority  of  his  demeanour  so  imposed  on  the  envoy  that 
he  speedily  fell  under  the  influence  of  the  very  man  whom 
he  was  to  watch,  and  became  his  enthusiastic  adherent. 

Bonaparte  was  at  Bologna,  supervising  the  affairs  of 
the  Cispadane  Republic,  when  he  heard  that  the  Austrians 
were  making  a  last  effort  for  the  relief  of  Mantua.  An- 
other plan  had  been  drawn  up  by  the  Aulic  Council  at 
Vienna.  Alvintzy,  after  recruiting  his  wearied  force 
at  Bassano,  was  quickly  to  join  the  Tyrolese  column  at 
Roveredo,  thereby  forming  an  army  of  28,000  men  where- 
with to  force  the  position  of  RivoU  and  drive  the  French 
in  on  Mantua :  9,000  Imperialists  under  Provera  were 
also  to  advance  from  the  Brenta  upon  Legnago,  in  order 
to  withdraw  the  attention  of  the  French  from  the  real 
attempt  made  by  the  valley  of  the  Adige  ;  while  10,000 
others  at  Bassano  and  elsewhere  were  to  assail  the  French 
front  at  different  points  and  hinder  their  concentration. 
It  will  be  observed  that  the  errors  of  July  and  November, 
1796,  were  now  yet  a  third  time  to  be  committed:  the 
forces  destined  merely  to  make  diversions  were  so  strength- 
ened as  not  to  be  merely  light  bodies  distracting  the  aim 
of  the  French,  while  Alvintzy's  main  force  was  thereby 
so  weakened  as  to  lack  the  impact  necessary  for  victory. 

Nevertheless,  the  Imperialists  at  first  threw  back  their 
foes  with  some  losses  ;  and  Bonaparte,  hurrying  north- 
wards to  Verona,  was  for  some  hours  in  a  fever  of  uncer- 
tainty as  to  the  movements  and  strength  of  the  assailants. 
Late  at  night  on  January  14th  he  knew  that  Provera's 
advance  was  little  more  than  a  demonstration,  and  that 
the  real  blow  would  fall  on  the  10,000  men  marshalled 
by  Joubert  at  Monte  Baldo  and  Rivoli.  Forthwith  he 
rode  to  the  latter  place,  and  changed  retreat  and  discour- 
agement into  a  vigorous  offensive  by  the  news  that  13,000 
more  men  were  on  the  march  to  defend  the  strong  position 
of  Rivoli. 

The  great  defensive  strength  of  this  plateau  had  from 
the  first  attracted  his  attention.     There  the  Adige  in  a 


Ti  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  121 

sharp  bend  westward  approaches  within  six  miles  of  Lake 
Garda.  There,  too,  the  mountains,  which  hem  in  the  gorge 
of  the  river  on  its  right  bank,  bend  away  towards  the  lake 
and  leave  a  vast  natural  amphitheatre,  near  the  centre  of 
which  rises  the  irregular  plateau  that  commands  the  exit 
from  Tyrol.  Over  this  plateau  towers  on  the  north  Monte 
Baldo,  which,  near  the  river  gorge,  sends  out  southward  a 
sloping  ridge,  known  as  San  Marco,  connecting  it  with  the 
plateau.  At  the  foot  of  this  spur  is  the  summit  of  the  road 
which  leads  the  traveller  from  Trent  to  Verona ;  and,  as  he 
halts  at  the  top  of  the  zigzag,  near  the  village  of  Rivoli,  his 
eye  sweeps  over  the  winding  gorge  of  the  river  beneath, 
the  threatening  mass  of  Monte  Baldo  on  the  north,  and  on 
the  west  of  the  village  he  gazes  down  on  a  natural  depres- 
sion which  has  been  sharply  furrowed  by  a  torrent.  The 
least  experienced  eye  can  see  that  the  position  is  one  of 
great  strength.  It  is  a  veritable  parade  ground  among 
the  mountains,  almost  cut  off  from  them  by  the  ceaseless 
action  of  water,  and  destined  for  the  defence  of  the  plains 
of  Italy.  A  small  force  posted  at  the  head  of  the  winding 
roadway  can  hold  at  bay  an  army  toiling  up  from  the  valley ; 
but,  as  at  ThermopylsB,  the  position  is  liable  to  be  outflanked 
by  an  enterprising  foe,  who  should  scale  the  footpath  lead- 
ing over  the  western  offshoots  of  Monte  Baldo,  and,  ford- 
ing the  stream  at  its  foot,  should  then  advance  eastwards 
against  the  village.  This,  in  part,  was  Alvintzy's  plan, 
and  having  nearly  28,000  men,^  he  doubted  not  that  his 
enveloping  tactics  must  capture  Joubert's  division  of 
10,000  men.  So  daunted  was  even  this  brave  general  by 
the  superior  force  of  his  foes  that  he  had  ordered  a  retreat 
southwards  when  an  aide-de-camp  arrived  at  full  gallop 
and  ordered  him  to  hold  Rivoli  at  all  costs.  Bonaparte's 
arrival  at  4  a.m.  explained  the  order,  and  an  attack  made 

I  Esttmates  of  the  Austrian  force  differ  widely.  Bonaparte  guessed 
it  at  46,000,  which  is  accepted  by  Thiers ;  Alison  says  40,000 ;  Thi^bault 
opines  that  it  was  75,000 ;  Marmont  gives  the  total  as  26,217.  The  Aus- 
trian official  figures  are  28,022  btfore  the  fighting  north  of  Monte  Baldo. 
See  my  article  in  the  '*  Eng.  Hist.  Review  '*  for  April,  1800.  I  have 
largely  followed  the  despatches  of  Colonel  Graham,  who  was  present  at 
this  battle.  As  '*  J.  6."  points  out  (op,  cit.^  p.  237),  the  French  had 
1,600  horse  and  some  forty  cannon,  which  gave  them  a  great  advantage 
over  foes  who  could  make  no  effective  use  of  these  arms. 


122 


THE  LIFE  OF  NAFOLEON  I 


CHAP. 


during  the  darkness  wrested  from  the  Austrians  the  chapel 
on  the  San  Marco  ridge  which  stands  on  the  ridge  above 
the  zigzag  track.  The  reflection  of  the  Austrian  watch- 
fires  in  the  wintry  sky  showed  him  their  general  position. 
To  an  unskilled  observer  the  wide  sweep  of  the  glare 
portended  ruin  for  the  French.  To  the  eye  of  Bonaparte 
the  sight  brought  hope.  It  proved  that  his  foes  were 
still  bent  on  their  old  plan  of  enveloping  him :  and  from 


r- -^iW 


Neighbourhood  of  Riyoli. 


information  which  he  treacherously  received  from  Al- 
vintzv's  staff  he  must  have  known  that  that  commander 
had  far  fewer  than  the  45,000  men  which  he  ascribed  to 
him  in  bulletins. 

Yet  the  full  dawn  of  that  January  day  saw  the  Imperi- 
alists flushed  with  success,  as  their  six  separate  columns 
drove  in  the  French  outposts  and  moved  towards  RivoU. 
Of  these,  one  was  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Adige  and 
merely  cannonaded  across  the  valley :  another  column 
wound  painfully  with  most  of  the  artillery  and  cavalry 


VI  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  123 

along  the  western  bank,  making  for  the  Tillage  of  Incanale 
and  the  foot  of  the  zigzag  leading  up  to  Kivoli :  three 
others  defiled  over  Monte  Baldo  by  difficult  paths  impas- 
sable to  cannon :  while  the  sixth  and  westernmost  column, 
winding  along  the  ridge  near  Lake  Garda,  likewise  lacked 
the  power  which  field-guns  and  horsemen  would  have 
added  to  its  important  turning  movement.  Never  have 
natural  obstacles  told  more  potently  on  the  fortunes  of 
war  than  at  Rivoli ;  for  on  the  side  where  the  assailants 
most  needed  horses  and  guns  they  could  not  be  used; 
while  on  the  eastern  edge  of  their  broken  front  their  can- 
non and  horse,  crowded  together  in  the  valley  of  the 
Adige,  had  to  climb  the  winding  road  under  the  plunging 
fire  of  the  French  infantry  and  artillery.  Nevertheless, 
such  was  the  ardour  of  the  Austrian  attack,  that  the  tide  of 
battle  at  first  set  strongly  in  their  favour.  Driving  the 
French  from  the  San  Marco  ridge  and  pressing  their  cen- 
tre hard  between  Monte  Baldo  and  Rivoli,  they  made  it 
possible  for  their  troops  in  the  valley  to  struggle  on 
towards  the  foot  of  the  zigzag ;  and  on  the  west  their 
distant  right  wing  was  already  beginning  to  threaten  the 
French  rear.  Despite  the  arrival  of  Massena's  troops 
from  Verona  about  9  a.m.,  the  republicans  showed  signs 
of  unsteadiness.  Joubert  on  the  ground  above  the  Adige, 
Berthier  in  the  centre,  and  Massena  on  the  left,  were 
fi^dually  forced  back.  An  Austrian  column,  advancing 
From  the  side  of  Monte  Baldo  by  the  narrow  ravine,  stole 
round  the  flank  of  a  French  regiment  in  front  of  Massena's 
division,  and  by  a  vigorous  charge  sent  it  flying  in  a  panic 
which  promised  to  spread  to  another  regiment  thus  un- 
covered. This  was  too  much  for  the  veteran,  already 
dubbed  "  the  spoilt  child  of  victory "  ;  he  rushed  to  its 
captain,  bitterly  upbraided  him  and  the  other  officers,  and 
finally  showered  blows  on  them  with  the  flat  of  his  sword. 
Then,  riding  at  full  speed  to  two  tried  regiments  of  his 
own  division,  he  ordered  them  to  check  the  foe ;  and  these 
invincible  heroes  promptly  drove  back  the  assailants. 
Even  so,  however,  the  valour  of  the  best  French  regiments 
and  the  skill  of  Massena,  Berthier,  and  Joubert  barely  suf- 
ficed to  hold  back  the  onstreaming  tide  of  white-coats 
opposite  Rivoli. 


124  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Yet  even  at  this  crisis  the  commaQder,  confident  in  his 
central  position,  and  knowing  his  ability  to  ward  off  the 
encircling  swoops  of  the  Austrian  eagle,  maintained  that 
calm  demeanour  which  moved  the  wonder  of  smaller 
minds.  His  confidence  in  his  seasoned  troops  was  not 
misplaced.  The  Imperialists,  overburdened  by  long 
marches  and  faint  now  for  lack  of  food,  could  not  maintain 
their  first  advantage.  Some  of  their  foremost  troops,  that 
had  won  the  broken  ground  in  front  of  St.  Mark's  Chapel, 
were  suddenly  charged  by  French  horse ;  they  fled  in 
panic,  crying  out,  "  French  cavalry  1 "  and  the  space  won 
was  speedily  abandoned  to  the  tricolour.  This  sudden 
rebuff  was  to  dash  all  their  hopes  of  victory ;  for  at  that 
crisis  of  the  day  the  chief  Austrian  column  of  nearly  8,000 
men  was  struggling  up  the  zigzag  ascent  leading  from  the 
valley  of  the  Adige  to  the  plateau,  in  the  fond  hope  that 
their  foes  were  by  this  time  driven  from  the  summit. 
Despite  the  terrible  fire  that  tore  their  flanks,  the  Im- 
perialists were  clutching  desperately  at  the  plateau,  when 
Bonaparte  put  forth  his  full  striking  power.  He  could 
now  assail  the  crowded  ranks  of  the  doomed  column  in 
front  and  on  both  flanks.  A  charge  of  Leclerc's  ho^e  \  ' 
and  of  Joubert's  infantry  crushed  its  head;  volleys  of 
cannon  and  musketry  from  the  plateau  tore  its  sides  ;  aa 
ammunition  wagon  exploded  in  its  midst ;  and  the  great 
constrictor  forthwith  writhed  its  bleeding  coils  back  into 
the  valley,  where  it  lay  crushed  and  helpless  for  the  rest 
of  the  fight. 

Animated  by  this  lightning  stroke  of  their  commander, 
the  French  turned  fiercely  towards  Monte  Baldo  and  drove 
back  their  opponents  into  the  depression  at  its  foot.  But 
already  at  their  rear  loud  shouts  warned  them  of  a  new 
danger.  The  western  detachment  of  the  Imperialists  had 
meanwhile  worked  round  their  rear,  and,  ignorant  of  the 
fate  of  their  comrades,  believed  that  Bonaparte's  army 
was  caught  in  a  trap.  The  eyes  of  all  the  French  staff 
officers  were  now  turned  anxiously  on  their  commander, 
who  quietly  remarked,  "  We  have  them  now."  He  knew, 
in  fact,  that  other  French  troops  marching  up  from  Verona 
would  take  these  new  foes  in  the  rear  ;  and  though  Junot 
and  his  horsemen  failed  to  cut  their  way  through  so  as  to 


Ti  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  125 

expedite  their  approach,  yet  speedily  a  French  regiment 
burst  through  the  encircling  line  and  joined  in  the  final 
attack  which  drove  these  last  assailants  from  the  heights 
south  of  Rivoli,  and  later  on  compelled  them  to  sur- 
render. 

Thus  closed  the  desperate  battle  of  Rivoli  (January 
14th).  Defects  in  the  Austrian  position  and  the  opportune 
arrival  of  French  reinforcements  served  to  turn  an  Aus- 
trian success  into  a  complete  rout.  Circumstances  which 
to  a  civilian  may  seem  singly  to  be  of  small  account  suf- 
ficed to  tilt  the  trembling  scales  of  warfare,  and  Alvintzy's 
army  now  reeled  helplessly  back  into  Tyrol  with  a  total 
loss  of  15,000  men  and  of  nearly  all  its  artillery  and  stores. 
Leaving  Joubert  to  pursue  it  towards  Trent,  Bonaparte 
now  flew  southwards  towards  Mantua,  whither  Provera 
had  cut  his  way.  Again  his  untiring  energy,  his  insatia- 
ble care  for  all  probable  contingencies,  reaped  a  success 
which  the  ignorant  may  charge  to  the  ficcount  of  his  for- 
tune. Strengthening  Augereau's  division  by  light  troops,  he 
captured  the  whole  of  Provera's  anny  at  La  Favorita,  near 
the  walls  of  Mantua  (January  16th).  The  natural  result 
of  these  two  dazzling  triumphs  was  the  fall  of  the  fortress 
for  which  the  Emperor  Francis  had  risked  and  lost  five 
armies.  Wiirmser  surrendered  Mantua  on  February  2nd 
with  18,000  men  and  immense  supplies  of  arms  and  stores. 
The  close  of  this  wondrous  campaign  was  graced  by  an 
act  of  clemency.  Generous  terms  were  accorded  to  the 
veteran  marshal,  whose  fidelity  to  blundering  councillors 
at  Vienna  had  thrown  up  in  brilliant  relief  the  prudence, 
audacity,  and  resourcefulness  of  the  young  war-god. 

It  was  now  time  to  chastise  the  Pope  for  his  support  of 
the  enemies  of  France.  The  Papalini  proved  to  be  con- 
temptible as  soldiers.  They  fled  before  the  republicans, 
and  a  military  promenade  brought  the  invaders  to  Ancona, 
and  then  inland  to  Tolentino,  where  Pius  VI.  sued  for 
peace.  The  resulting  treaty  signed  at  that  place  (Febru- 
ary 19th)  condemned  the  Holy  See  to  close  its  ports  to 
the  allies,  especially  to  the  English  ;  to  acknowledge  the 
acquisition  of  Avignon  by  France,  and  the  establishment 
of  the  Cispadane  Republic  at  Bologna,  Ferrara,  and  the 
surrounding  districts ;   to  pay  30,000,000  francs  to  the 


126  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

French  Government ;  and  to  surrender  one  hundred  works 
of  art  to  the  victorious  republicans. 

It  is  needless  to  describe  the  remaining  stages  in 
Bonaparte's  campaign  against  Austria.  Hitherto  he  had 
contended  against  fairly  good,  though  discontented  and 
discouraged  troops,  badly  led,  and  hampered  by  the  moun- 
tain barrier  which  separated  them  from  their  real  base  of 
operations.  In  the  last  part  of  the  war  he  fought  against 
troops  demoralized  by  an  almost  unbroken  chain  of  disas- 
ters. The  Austrians  were  now  led  by  a  brave  and  intel- 
ligent general,  the  Archduke  Charles ;  but  he  was  hampered 
by  rigorous  instructions  from  Vienna,  by  senile  and  indo- 
lent generals,  by  the  indignation  or  despair  of  the  younger 
officers  at  the  official  favouritism  which  left  them  in  ob- 
scurity, and  by  the  apathy  of  soldiers  who  had  lost  heart. 
Neither  his  skill  nor  the  natural  strength  of  their  positions 
in  Friuli  and  Carinthia  could  avail  against  veterans  flushed 
with  victory  and  marshalled  with  unerring  sagacity.  The 
rest  of  the  war  only  served  to  emphasize  the  truth  of  Napo- 
leon's later  statement,  that  the  moral  element  constitutes 
three-fourths  of  an  army's  strength.  The  barriers  offered 
by  the  River  Tagliamento  and  the  many  commanding 
heights  of  the  Carnic  and  the  Noric  Alps  were  as  nothing 
to  the  triumphant  republicans  ;  and  from  the  heights  that 

guard  the  province  of  Styria,  the  genius  of  Napoleon 
ashed  as  a  terrifying  portent  to  the  Court  of  Vienna  and 
the  potentates  of  Central  Europe.  When  the  tricolour 
standards  were  nearing  the  town  of  Leoben,  the  Emperor 
Francis  sent  envoys  to  sue  for  peace ;  ^  and  the  prelimi- 
naries signed  there,  within  one  hundred  miles  of  the  Aus- 
trian capital,  closed  the  campaign  which  a  year  previously 
had  opened  with  so  little  promise  for  the  French  on  the 
narrow  strip  of  land  between  the  Maritime  Alps  and  the 
petty  township  of  Savona. 

These  brilliant  results  were  due  primarily  to  the  con- 
summate leadership  of  Bonaparte.     His  geographical  in- 

1  This  was  doubtless  facilitated  by  the  death  of  the  Czarina,  Catheiiiie 
n.,  in  December,  1706.  She  had  been  on  the  point  of  entering  the  Coali- 
tion against  France.  The  new  Czar  Paul  was  at  that  time  for  peace.  The 
Austrian  Minister  Thugut,  on  hearing  of  her  death,  exclaimed,  **Thi8  is 
the  climax  of  our  disasters.^* 


Ti  THE  FIGHTS  FOR  MANTUA  127 

stincts  discerned  the  means  of  profiting  by  natural  obstacles 
and  of  turning  them  when  they  seemed  to  screen  his  oppo- 
nents. Prompt  to  divine  their  plans,  he  bewildered  them 
by  the  audacity  of  his  combinations,  which  overbore  their 
columns  with  superior  force  at  the  very  time  when  he 
seemed  doomed  to  succumb.  Genius  so  commanding  had 
not  been  displayed  even  by  Frederick  or  Marlborough. 
And  yet  these  briUiant  results  could  not  have  been  achieved 
by  an  army  which  rarely  exceeded  45,000  men  without 
the  strenuous  bravery  and  tactical  skill  of  the  best  generals 
of  division,  Augereau,  Massena,  and  Joubert,  as  well  as 
of  officers  who  had  shown  their  worth  in  many  a  doubtful 
fight ;  Lannes,  the  hero  of  Lodi  and  Areola ;  Marmont, 
noted  for  his  daring  advance  of  the  guns  at  Castiglione  ; 
Victor,  who  justified  his  name  by  hard  fighting  at  La 
Favorita  ;  Murat,  the  beau  sabreur^  and  Junot,  both  dash- 
ing cavalry  generals  ;  and  many  more  whose  daring  earned 
them  a  soldier's  death  in  order  to  gain  glory  for  France 
and  liberty  for  Italy.  Still  less  ought  the  soldiery  to  be 
forgotten  ;  those  troops,  whose  tattered  uniforms  bespoke 
their  ceaseless  toils,  who  grumbled  at  the  frequent  lack  of 
breail,  but,  as  Massena  observed,  never  before  a  battle, 
who  even  in  retreat  never  doubted  the  genius  of  their 
chief,  and  fiercely  rallied  at  the  longed-for  sign  of  fighting. 
The  source  of  this  marvellous  energy  is  not  hard  to  dis- 
cover. Their  bravery  was  fed  by  that  wellspring  of  hope 
which  had  made  of  France  a  nation  of  free  men  determined 
to  free  the  millions  beyond  their  frontiers.  The  French 
columns  were  "  equality  on  the  march  "  ;  and  the  soldiery, 
animated  by  this  grand  enthusiasm,  found  its  militant 
embodiment  in  the  great  captain  who  seemed  about  to 
liberate  Italy  and  Central  Europe. 


CHAPTER  VII 

LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO 

In  signing  the  preliminaries  of  peace  at  Leoben,  which 
formed  in  part  the  basis  for  the  Treaty  of  Campo  Formio, 
Bonaparte  appears  as  a  diplomatist  of  the  first  rank.  He 
had  already  signed  similar  articles  with  the  Court  of 
Turin  and  with  the  Vatican.  But  such  a  transaction  with 
the  Emperor  was  infinitely  more  important  than  with  the 
third-rate  powers  of  the  peninsula.  He  now  essays  his 
first  flight  to  the  highest  levels  of  international  diplomacy. 
In  truth,  his  mental  endowments,  like  those  of  many  of 
the  greatest  generals,  were  no  less  adapted  to  success  in 
the  council-chamber  than  on  the  field  of  battle  ;  for, 
indeed,  the  processes  of  thought  and  the  methods  of  action 
are  not  dissimilar  in  the  spheres  of  diplomacy  and  war. 
To  evade  obstacles  on  which  an  opponent  relies,  to  mul- 
tiply them  in  his  path,  to  bewilder  him  by  feints  before 
overwhelming  him  by  a  crushing  onset,  these  are  the  arts 
which  yield  success  either  to  the  negotiator  or  to  the 
commander. 

In  imposing  terms  of  peace  on  the  Emperor  at  Leoben 
(April  18th,  1797\  Bonaparte  reduced  the  Directory, 
and  its  envoy,  Clarke,  who  was  absent  in  Italy,  to  a  sub- 
ordinate rSle.  As  commander-in-chief,  he  had  power  only 
to  conclude  a  brief  armistice,  but  now  he  signed  the  pre- 
liminaries of  peace.  His  excuse  to  the  Directory  was 
ingenious.  While  admitting  the  irregularity  of  his  con- 
duct, he  pleaded  the  isolated  position  of  his  army,  and  the 
absence  of  Clarke,  and  that,  under  the  circumstances,  his 
act  had  been  merely  "a  military  operation."  He  could 
also  urge  that  he  had  in  his  rear  a  disaffected  Venetia, 
and  that  he  believed  the  French  armies  on  the  Rhine  to 
be  stationary  and  unable  to  cross  that  river.  But  the 
very  tardy  advent  of  Clarke  on  the  scene  strengthens  the 

128 


Til    .  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO  129 

supposition  that  Bonaparte  was  at  the  time  by  no  means 
loth  to  figure  as  the  pacifier  of  the  Continent.  Had  he 
known  the  whole  truth,  namely,  that  the  French  were 
gaining  a  battle  on  the  east  ban£  of  the  Rhine  while  the 
terms  of  peace  were  being  signed  at  Leoben,  he  would 
most  certainly  have  broken  off  the  negotiations  and  have 
dictated  harsher  terms  at  the  gates  of  Vienna.  That  was 
the  vision  which  shone  before  his  eyes  three  years  pre- 
viously, when  he  sketched  to  his  friends  at  Nice  the  plan 
of  campaign,  beginning  at  Savona  and  ending  before  the 
Austrian  capital ;  and  great  was  his  chagrin  at  hearing 
the  tidings  of  Moreau's  success  on  April  20th.  The  news 
reached  him  on  his  return  from  Leoben  to  Italy,  when  he 
was  detained  for  a  few  hours  by  a  sudden  flood  of  the 
River  Tagliamento.  At  once  he  determined  to  ride  back 
and  make  some  excuse  for  a  rupture  with  Austria ;  and 
only  the  persistent  remonstrances  of  Berthier  turned 
him  from  this  mad  resolve,  which  would  forthwith  have 
exhibited  him  to  the  world  as  estimating  more  highly  the 
youthful  promptings  of  destiny  than  the  honour  of  a 
French  negotiator. 

The  terms  which  he  had  granted  to  the  Emperor  were 
lenient  enough.  The  only  definitive  gain  to  France  was 
the  acquisition  of  the  Austrian  Netherlands  (Belgium), 
for  which  troublesome  possession  the  Emperor  was  to 
have  compensation  elsewhere.  Nothing  absolutely  bind- 
ing was  said  about  the  left,  or  west,  bank  of  the  Rhine, 
except  that  Austria  recognized  the  ^*  constitutional  limits  " 
of  France,  but  reaffirmed  the  integrity  of  "The  Empire."^ 
These  were  contradictory  statements ;  for  France  had 
declared  the  Rhine  to  be  her  natural  boundary,  and  the 
old  "Empire "included  Belgium,  Treves,  and  Luxemburg. 
But,  for  the  interpretation  of  these  vague  formularies,  the 
following  secret  and  all-important  articles  were  appended. 
While  uie  Emperor  renounced  that  part  of  his  Italian 
possessions  which  lay  to  the  west  of  the  Oglio,  he  was  to 
receive  all  the  mainland  territories  of  Venice  east  of  that 
river,  including  Dalmatia  and  Istria.  Venice  was  also  to 
cede  her  lands  west  of  the  Oglio  to  the  French  Govern- 
ment ;  and  in  return  for  these  sacrifices  she  was  to  gain 

^Httfler,  **  Oesterroich  and  Preuasen,''  p.  263. 

K 


lao  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

the  three  legations  of  Romagna,  Ferrara,  and  Bologna 
—  the  very  lands  which  Bonaparte  had  recently  formed 
into  the  Cispadane  Republic  !  For  the  rest,  the  Emperor 
would  have  to  recognize  the  proposed  Republic  at  Milan, 
as  also  that  already  existing  at  Modena,  ^^  compensation  " 
being  somewhere  found  for  the  deposed  duke. 

From  the  correspondence  of  Thugut,  the  Austrian  Min- 
ister, it  appears  certain  that  Austria  herself  had  looked 
forward  to  the  partition  of  the  Venetian  mainland  terri- 
tories, and  this  was  the  scheme  which  Bonaparte  actually 
proposed  to  her  at  Leohen.  Still  more  extraordinary  was 
nis  proposal  to  sacrifice,  ostensibly  to  Venice  but  ultimately 
to  Austria,  the  greater  part  of  the  Cispadane  Republic. 
It  is,  indeed,  inexplicable,  except  on  the  ground  that  his 
military  position  at  Leoben  was  more  brilliant  than  secure. 
His  uneasiness  about  this  article  of  the  preliminaries  is 
seen  in  his  letter  of  April  22nd  to  the  Directors,  which 
explains  that  the  preliminaries  need  not  count  for  much. 
But  most  extraordinary  of  all  was  his  procedure  concern- 
ing the  young  Lombard  Republic.  He  seems  quite  calmly 
to  have  discussed  its  retrocession  to  the  Austrians,  and  that, 
too,  after  he  had  encouraged  the  Milanese  to  found  a  re- 
public, and  had  declared  that  every  French  victory  was  *'a 
line  of  the  constitutional  charter."  ^  The  most  reasonable 
explanation  is  that  Bonaparte  over-estimated  the  military 
strength  of  Austria,  and  undervalued  the  energy  of  the 
men  of  Milan,  Modena,  and  Bologna,  of  whose  levies  he 
spoke  most  contemptuously.  Certain  it  is  that  he  desired 
to  disengage  himself  from  their  affairs  so  as  to  be  free  for 
the  grander  visions  of  oriental  conquest  that  now  haunted 
his  imagination.  Whatever  were  his  motives  in  signing 
the  preliminaries  at  Leoben,  he  speedily  found  means  for 
their  modification  in  the  ever-enlarging  area  of  negotiable 
lands. 

It  is  now  time  to  return  to  the  affairs  of  Venice.  For 
seven  months  the  towns  and  villages  of  that  republic  had 
been  a  prey  to  pitiless  warfare  and  systematic  rapacity,  a 
fate  which  the  weak  .ruling  oligarchy  could  neither  avert 
nor  avenge.     In  the  western  cities,  Bergamo  and  Brescia, 

i*»Momteur,'»  20  Floreal,  Year  V. ;  Sclout,  "Le  Directoire,"  vol.  iL, 
cluyiL 


vn  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO  131 

whose  interests  and  feelings  linked  them  with  Milan 
rather  than  Venice,  the  populace  desired  an  alliance  with 
the  nascent  republic  on  the  west  and  a  severance  from  the 
gloomy  despotism  of  the  Queen  of  the  Adriatic.  Though 
glorious  in  her  prime,  she  now  governed  with  the  cruelty 
inspired  by  fear  of  her  weakness  becoming  manifest ;  and 
Bonaparte,  tearing  off  the  mask  which  hitherto  had 
screened  her  dotage,  left  her  despised  by  the  more  pro- 
gressive of  her  own  subjects.  Even  before  he  first  entered 
the  Venetian  territory,  he  set  forth  to  the  Directory  the 
facilities  for  plunder  and  partition  which  it  offered.  Re- 
ferring to  its  reception  of  the  Comte  de  Provence  (the 
future  Louis  XVIII.)  and  the  occupation  of  Peschiera  by 
the  Austrians,  he  wrote  (June  6th,  1796)  : 

^  If  your  plan  is  to  extract  five  or  six  million  francs  from  Venice, 
I  have  expressly  prepared  for  you  this  sort  of  rupture  with  her.  .  .  . 
If  you  have  intentions  more  pronounced,  I  think  that  you  ought  to 
continue  this  subject  of  contention,  instruct  me  as  to  your  desires, 
and  wait  for  the  favourable  opportunity,  which  I  will  seize  according 
to  circumstances,  for  we  must  not  have  everybody  on  our  hands  at  the 
same  time." 

The  events  which  now  transpired  in  Venetia  gave  him 
excuses  for  the  projected  partition.  The  weariness  felt 
by  the  Brescians  and  Bergamesques  for  Venetian  rule  had 
been  artfully  played  on  by  the  Jacobins  of  Milan  and  by 
the  French  Generals  Kilmaine  and  Landrieux ;  and  an 
effort  made  by  the  Venetian  officials  to  repress  the  grow- 
ing discontent  brought  about  disturbances  in  which  some 
men  of  the  "Lombard  legion"  were  killed.  The  com- 
plicity of  the  French  in  the  revolt  is  clearly  established 
by  the  Milanese  journals  and  by  the  fact  that  Landrieux 
forthwith  accepted  the  command  of  the  rebels  at  Bergamo 
and  Brescia.^  But  while  these  cities  espoused  the  Jacobin 
cause,  most  of  the  Venetian  towns  and  all  the  peasantry 
remained  faithful  to  the  old  Government.  It  was  clear 
that  a  conflict  must  ensue,  even  if  Bonaparte  and  some  of 

1  See  Landrieux^s  letter  on  the  subject  in  Eoch^s  **M6moires  de  Mas- 
sfena,"  vol.  ii. ;  "  Pifeces  Justif.,"  ad  fin, ;  and  Bonaparte's  "Corresp.," 
letter  of  March  24th,  1797.  The  evidence  of  this  letter,  as  also  of  those 
of  April  9th  and  19th,  is  ignored  by  Thiers,  whose  account  of  Venetian 
afitaira  is  misleading.  It  is  clear  that  Bonaparte  contemplated  partition 
long  before  the  revolt  of  Brescia. 


132  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

his  generals  had  not  secretly  worked  to  bring  it  about. 
That  be  and  they  did  so  work  cannot  now  be  disputed. 
The  circle  of  proof  is  complete.  The  events  at  Brescia 
and  Bergamo  were  part  of  a  scheme  for  precipitating  a 
rupture  with  Venice  ;  and  their  success  was  so  far  assured 
that  Bonaparte  at  Leoben  secretly  bargained  away  nearly 
the  whole  of  the  Venetian  lands.  Furthermore,  a  fort- 
night before  the  signing  of  these  preliminaries,  he  had 
suborned  a  vile  wretch^  Salvatori  by  name,  to  issue  a 
proclamation  purporting  to  come  from  the  Venetian  au- 
thorities, which  urged  the  people  everywhere  to  rise  and 
massacre  the  French.  It  was  issued  on  April  5th,  though 
it  bore  the  date  of  March  20th.  At  once  the  Doge  warned 
his  people  that  it  was  a  base  fabrication.  But  the  mis- 
chief had  been  done.  On  Easter  Monday  (April  17th) 
a  chance  affray  in  Verona  let  loose  the  passions  which  had 
been  rising  for  months  past :  the  populace  rose  in  fury 
against  the  French  detachment  quartered  on  them :  and 
aU  the  soldiers  who  could  not  find  shelter  in  the  citadel, 
even  the  sick  in  the  hospitals,  fell  victims  to  the  craving 
for  revenge  for  the  humiliations  and  exactions  of  the  last 
seven  months.^  Such  was  Easter-tide  at  Verona  —  lea 
Pdgues  vSronaises — an  event  that  recalls  the  Sicilian  Ves- 
pers of  Palermo  in  its  blind  southern  fury. 

The  finale  somewhat  exceeded  Bonaparte's  expecta- 
tions, but  he  must  have  hailed  it  with  a  secret  satisfaction. 
It  gave  him  a  good  excuse  for  wholly  extinguishing 
Venice  as  an  independent  power.  According  to  the 
secret  articles  signed  at  Leoben,  the  city  of  Venice  was 
to  have  retained  Lr  independence  and  gained  the  Lega- 
tions.  But  her  contumacy  could  now  be  chastised  by 
annihilation.  Venice  could,  in  fact,  indemnify  the  Haps- 
burgs  for  the  further  cessions  which  France  exacted  from 
them  elsewhere ;  and  in  the  process  Bonaparte  would 
free  himself  from  the  blame  which  attached  to  his  hasty 
signature  of  the  preliminaries  at  Leoben.^  He  was  now 
determined  to  secure  the  Rhine  frontier  for  France,  to 

iBotta,  "Storia  d*Italia,"  vol.  ii.,  chs.  x.,  etc.;  Daru,  <«HiBt.  de 
Veniae,**  vol.  v.  ;  Gaffarel,  '*  Bonaparte  et  leB  R^publiqueB  Italiennea," 
pp.  137-139 ;  and  Sciont,  **  Le  Directoire/'  vol.  ii.,  chB.  T.  and  vii. 

s  Sorel,  ''  Bonaparte  et  Hoche  en  1797,"  p.  65. 


TU  LEOBEN  TO  GAMPO  FOBIHO  183 

gain  independence,  under  French  tutelage,  not  only  for 
the  Lombard  Republic,  but  also  for  Modena  and  the  Lega- 
tions. These  were  his  aims  during  the  negotiations  to 
which  he  gave  the  full  force  of  his  intellect  during  the 
spring  and  summer  of  1797. 

The  first  thing  was  to  pour  French  troops  into  Italy  so 
pu3  to  extort  better  terms  :  the  next  was  to  declare  war  on 
Venice.  For  this  there  was  now  ample  justification  ;  for, 
apart  from  the  massacre  at  Verona,  another  outrage  had 
been  perpetrated.  A  French  corsair,  which  had  persisted 
in  anchoring  in  a  forbidden  part  of  the  harbour  of  Venice, 
had  been  riddled  by  the  batteries  and  captured.  For  this 
act,  and  for  the  outbreak  at  Verona,  the  Doge  and  Senate 
offered  ample  reparation:  but  Bonaparte  refused  to  listen 
to  these  envoys,  "dripping  with  French  blood,"  and 
haughtily  bade  Venice  evacuate  her  mainland  territories.^ 
For  various  reasons  he  decided  to  use  guile  rather  than 
force.  He  found  in  Venice  a  secretary  of  the  French 
legation,  Villetard  by  name,  who  could  be  trusted  dex- 
trously  to  undermine  the  crumbling  fabric  of  the  oli- 
garchy.^ This  man  persuaded  the  terrified  populace  that 
nothing  would  appease  the  fury  of  the  French  general 
but  the  deposition  of  the  existing  oligarchy  and  the  for- 
mation of  a  democratic  municipality.  The  people  and  the 
patricians  alike  swallowed  the  bait ;  and  the  once  haughty 
Senate  tamely  pronounced  its  own  doom.  Disorders  natu- 
rally occurred  on  the  downfall  of  the  ancient  oligarchy, 
especially  when  the  new  municipality  ordered  the  re- 
moval of  Venetian  men-of-war  into  the  hands  of  the 
French  and  the  introduction  of  French  troops  by  help  of 
Venetian  vessels.  A  mournful  silence  oppressed  even 
the  democrats  when  5,000  French  troops  entered  Venice 
on  board  the  flotilla.  The  famous  State,  which  for  cen- 
turies had  ruled  the  waters  of  the  Levant,  and  had  held 
the  fierce  Turks  at  bay,  a  people  numbering  3,000,000 
souls  and  boasting  a  revenue  of  9,000,000  ducats,  now 
struck  not  one  blow  against  conquerors  who  came  in  the 
guise  of  liberators. 

On  the  same  day  Bonaparte  signed  at  Milan  a  treaty  of 
alliance  with  the  envoys  of  the  new  Venetian  Govern- 

1  Letter  of  April  aOth,  1707.  «  Letter  of  May  13th,  1797. 


134  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohaf. 

ment.  His  friendship  was  to  be  dearly  bought.  In 
secret  articles,  which  were  of  more  import  than  the  vague 
professions  of  amity  which  filled  the  public  document,  it 
was  stipulated  that  the  French  and  Venetian  Republics 
should  come  to  an  understanding  as  to  the  exchange  of 
certain  territories,  that  Venice  should  pay  a  contribution 
in  money  and  in  materials  of  war,  should  aid  the  French 
navy  by  furnishing  three  battleships  and  two  frigates, 
and  should  enrich  the  museums  of  her  benefactress  by  20 
paintings  and  500  manuscripts.  While  he  was  signing 
these  conditions  of  peace,  the  Directors  were  despatching 
from  Paris  a  declaration  of  war  against  Venice.  Their 
decision  was  already  obsolete  :  it  was  founded  on  Bona- 
parte's despatch  of  April  80th  ;  but  in  the  interval  their 
proconsul  had  wholly  changed  the  situation  by  over- 
throwing the  rule  of  the  Doge  and  Senate,  and  by  setting 
up  a  democracy,  through  which  he  could  extract  the 
wealth  of  that  land.  The  Directors'  declaration  of  war 
was  accordingly  stopped  at  Milan,  and  no  more  was  heard 
of  it.  They  were  thus  forcibly  reminded  of  the  truth  of 
his  previous  warning  that  things  would  certainly  go  wrong 
unless  they  consulted  him  on  all  important  details.^ 

This  treaty  of  Milan  was  the  fourth  important  conven- 
tion concluded  by  the  general,  who,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  campaign  of  1796,  had  been  forbidden  even  to  sign  an 
armistice  without  consulting  Salicetti  1 

It  was  speedily  followed  by  another,  which  in  many 
respects  redounds  to  the  credit  of  the  young  conqueror. 
If  his  conduct  towards  Venice  inspires  loathing,  his 
treatment  of  Genoa  must  excite  surprise  and  admiration. 
Apart  from  one  very  natural  outburst  of  spleen,  it  shows 
little  of  that  harshness  which  might  have  been  expected 
from  the  man  who  had  looked  on  Genoa  as  the  embodi- 
ment of  mean  despotism.  Up  to  the  summer  of  1796 
Bonaparte  seems  to  have  retained  something  of  his  old 
detestation  of  that  republic ;  for  at  midsummer,  when  he 
was  in  the  full  career  of  his  Italian  conquests,  he  wrote  to 

1  It  would  even  seem,  from  Bonaparte^s  letter  of  July  12th,  1797,  that 
not  till  then  did  he  deign  to  send  on  to  Paris  th^  terms  of  the  treaty  with 
Venice.  He  accompanied  it  with  the  cynical  suggestion  that  they  could 
do  what  they  liked  with  the  treaty,  and  even  annul  it  I 


Tn  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO  136 

Faypoult,  the  French  envoy  at  Genoa,  urging  him  to  keep 
open  certain  cases  that  were  in  dispute,  and  three  weeks 
later  he  again  wrote  that  the  time  tor  Genoa  had  not  yet 
come.  Any  definite  action  against  this  wealthy  city  was, 
indeed,  most  undesirable  during  the  campaign;  for  the 
bankers  of  Genoa  supplied  the  French  army  with  the 
sinews  of  war  by  means  of  secret  loans,  and  their  mer- 
chants were  equally  complaisant  in  regard  to  provisions. 
These  services  were  appreciated  by  Bonaparte  as  much  as 
they  were  resented  by  Nelson ;  and  possibly  the  succour 
which  Genoese  money  and  shipping  covertly  rendered  to 
the  French  expeditions  for  the  recovery  of  Corsica  may 
have  helped  to  efface  from  Bonaparte's  memory  the  asso- 
ciations clustering  around  the  once-revered  name  of  Paoli. 
From  ill-concealed  hostility  he  drifted  into  a  position  of 
tolerance  and  finally  of  friendship  towards  Genoa,  pro- 
vided that  she  became  democratic.  If  her  institutions 
could  be  assimilated  to  those  of  France,  she  might  prove 
a  valuable  intermediary  or  ally. 

The  destruction  of  the  Genoese  oligarchy  presented  no 
great  difficulties.  Both  Venice  and  Genoa  had  long  out- 
lived their  power,  and  the  persistent  violation  of  their 
neutrality  had  robbed  them  of  that  last  support  of  the 
weak,  self-respect.  The  intrigues  of  Faypoult  and  Sali- 
cetti  were  undermining  the  influence  of  the  Doge  and 
Senate,  when  the  news  of  the  fall  of  the  Venetian 
oligarchy  spurred  on  the  French  party  to  action.  But 
the  Doge  and  Senate  armed  bands  of  mountaineers  and 
fishermen  who  were  hostile  to  change ;  and  in  a  long  and 
desperate  conflict  in  the  narrow  streets  of  Genoa  the  demo- 
crats were  completely  worsted  (May  23rd).  The  victors 
thereupon  ransacked  the  houses  of  the  opposing  faction 
and  found  lists  of  names  of  those  who  were  to  have  been 
proscribed,  besides  documents  which  revealed  the  complic- 
ity of  the  French  agents  in  the  rising.  Bonaparte  was 
enraged  at  the  folly  of  the  Genoese  democrats,  which  de- 
ranged his  plans.  As  he  wrote  to  the  Directory,  if  they 
had  only  remained  quiet  for  a  fortnight,  the  oligarchy 
would  have  collapsed  from  sheer  weakness.  The  murder 
of  a  few  Frenchmen  and  Milanese  now  gave  him  an  ex- 
cuse for  intervention.     He  sent  an  aide-de-camp,  Lava- 


136  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

lette,  charged  with  a  vehement  diatribe  against  the  Doge 
and  Senate,  which  lost  nothing  in  its  recital  before  that 
august  body.  At  the  close  a  few  senators  called  out,  ^^  Let 
us  fight " :  but  the  spirit  of  the  Dorias  flickered  away 
with  these  protests  ;  and  the  degenerate  scions  of  mighty 
sires  submitted  to  the  insults  of  an  aide-de-camp  and  the 
dictation  of  his  master. 

The  fate  of  this  ancient  republic  was  decided  by  Bona- 
parte at  the  Castle  of  Montebello,  near  Milan,  where  he 
had  already  drawn  up  her  future  constitution.  After 
brief  conferences  with  the  Genoese  envoys,  he  signed  with 
them  the  secret  convention  which  placed  their  republic  — 
soon  to  be  renamed  the  Ligurian  Republic  —  under  the 
protection  of  France  and  substituted  for  the  close  'patri- 
cian rule  a  moderate  democracy.  The  fact  is  significant. 
His  military  instincts  had  now  weaned  him  from  the  sti£f 
Jacobinism  of  his  youth ;  and,  in  conjunction  with  Fay- 
poult  and  the  envoys,  he  arranged  that  the  legislative 
powers  should  be  intrusted  to  two  popularly  elected 
chambers  of  300  and  150  members,  while  the  executive 
functions  were  to  be  discharged  by  twelve  senators,  pre- 
sided over  by  a  Doge  ;  these  officers  were  to  be  appointed 
by  the  chambers :  for  the  rest,  the  principles  of  religious 
liberty  and  civic  equality  were  recognized,  and  local  self- 
government  was  amply  provided  tor.  Cynics  may,  of 
course,  object  that  this  excellent  constitution  was  but  a 
means  of  insuring  French  supremacy  and  of  peacefully 
installing  Bonaparte's  regiments  in  a  very  important  city; 
but  the  close  of  his  intervention  may  be  pronounced  as 
creditable  to  his  judgment  as  its  results  were  salutary  to 
Genoa.  He  even  upbraided  the  demaTOgic  party  of  that 
city  for  shivering  in  pieces  the  statue  ot  Andrea  Doria  and 
suspending  the  fragments  on  some  of  the  innumerable 
trees  of  liberty  recently  planted. 

"  Andrea  Doria,"  he  wrote,  "  was  a  great  sailor  and  a  great  states- 
man. Aristocracy  was  liberty  in  his  time.  The  whole  of  Europe 
envies  your  city  the  honour  of  having  produced  that  celebrated  man. 
You  will,  I  doubt  not,  take  pains  to  rear  his  statue  again :  I  pray^  you 
to  let  me  bear  a  part  of  the  expense  which  that  will  entail,  which  I 
desire  to  share  with  those  who  are  most  zealous  for  the  glory  and 
welfare  of  your  country." 


vn  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO  187 

In  oontnwting  this  wise  and  dignified  conduct  with  the 
hatred  which  most  Gorsicans  still  cherished  against  Genoa, 
Bonaparte's  greatness  of  soul  becomes  apparent  and  inspires 
the  wish  :  Utinam  semper  sic  fuisses  ! 

Few  periods  of  his  life  have  been  more  crowded  with 
momentous  events  than  his  sojourn  at  the  Castle  of  Monte- 
bello  in  May-July,  1797.  Besides  completing  the  down- 
fall of  Venice  and  reinvigorating  the  life  of  Genoa,  he 
was  deeply  concerned  with  the  affiiirs  of  the  Lombard  or 
Cisalpine  Republic,  with  his  family  concerns,  with  the  con- 
solidation of  his  own  power  in  French  politics,  and  with 
the  Austrian  negotiations.  We  will  consider  these  affairs 
in  the  order  here  indicated. 

The  future  of  Lombardy  had  long  been  a  matter  of  con- 
cern to  Bonaparte.  He  knew  that  its  people  were  the  fittest 
in  all  Italy  to  benefit  by  constitutional  rule,  but  it  must  be 
dependent  on  France.  He  felt  little  confidence  in  the  Lom- 
bards if  left  to  themselves,  as  is  seen  in  his  conversation 
with  Melzi  and  Miot  de  Melito  at  the  Castle  of  Montebello. 
He  was  in  one  of  those  humours,  frequent  at  this  time  of 
dawning  splendour,  when  confidence  in  his  own  genius 
betrayed  him  into  quite  piquant  indiscretions.  After 
referring  to  the  Directory,  he  turned  abruptly  to  Melzi,  a 
Lombard  nobleman : 

"  As  for  yoar  country,  Monsieur  de  Melzi,  it  possesses  still  fewer 
elements  of  republicanism  than  France,  and  can  be  managed  more 
easily  than  any  other.  You  know  better  than  anyone  that  we  shall 
do  what  we  like  with  Italy.  But  the  time  has  not  yet  come.  We 
must  give  way  to  the  fever  of  the  moment.  We  are  going  to  have 
one  or  two  republics  here  of  our  own  sort.  Monge  will  arrange  that 
for  us." 

He  had  some  reason  for  distrusting  the  strength  of  the 
democrats  in  Italy.  At  the  close  of  1796  he  had  written 
that  there  were  three  parties  in  Lombardy,  one  which 
accepted  French  guidance,  another  which  desired  liberty 
even  with  some  impatience,  and  a  third  faction,  friendly 
to  the  Austrians :  he  encouraged  the  first,  checked  the 
second,  and  repressed  the  last.  He  now  complained  that 
the  Cispadanes  and  Cisalpines  had  behaved  very  badly  in 
their  first  elections,  which  had  been  conducted  in  his 
absence  ;  for  they  had  allowed  clerical  influence  to  over- 


138  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

ride  all  French  predilections.  And,  a  little  later,  he 
wrote  to  Talleyrand  that  the  genuine  love  of  liberty  was 
feeble  in  Italy,  and  that,  as  soon  as  French  influences 
were  withdrawn,  the  Italian  Jacobins  would  be  murdered 
by  the  populace.  The  sequel  was  to  justify  his  misgiv- 
ings, and  therefore  to  refute  the  charges  of  those  who  see 
in  his  conduct  respecting  the  Cisalpine  Republic  nothing 
but  calculating  egotism.  The  diflBculty  of  freeing  a  popu- 
lace that  had  learnt  to  hug  its  chains  was  so  great  that 
the  temporary  and  partial  success  which  his  new  creation 
achieved  may  be  regarded  as  a  proof  of  his  political 
sagacity. 

After  long  preparations  by  four  committees,  which 
Bonaparte  kept  at  Milan  closely  engaged  in  the  drafting 
of  laws,  the  constitution  of  the  Cisalpine  Republic  was 
completed.  It  was  a  miniature  of  that  of  France,  and  lest 
there  should  be  any  further  mistakes  in  the  elections, 
Bonaparte  himself  appointed,  not  only  the  five  Directors 
and  the  Ministers  whom  they  were  to  control,  but  even 
the  180  legislators,  both  Ancients  and  Juniors.  In  this 
strange  fashion  did  democracy  descend  on  Italy,  not  mainly 
as  the  work  of  the  people,  but  at  the  behest  of  a  great 
organizing  genius.  It  is  only  fair  to  add  that  he  sum- 
moned to  the  work  of  civic  reconstruction  many  of  the 
best  intellects  of  Italy.  He  appointed  a  noble,  Serbelloni, 
to  be  the  first  President  of  the  Cisalpine  Republic,  and  a 
scion  of  the  august  House  of  the  Visconti  was  sent  as  its 
ambassador  to  Paris.  Many  able  men  that  had  left  Lom- 
bardy  during  the  Austrian  occupation  or  the  recent  wars 
were  attracted  back  by  Bonaparte^s  politic  clemency ;  and 
the  festival  of  July  9th  at  Milan,  which  graced  the  inau- 
guration of  the  new  Government,  presented  a  scene  of 
civic  joy  to  which  that  unhappy  province  had  long  been  a 
stranger.  A  vast  space  was  thronged  with  an  enormous 
crowd  which  took  up  the  words  of  the  civic  oath  uttered 
by  the  President.  The  Archbishop  of  Milan  celebrated 
Mass  and  blessed  the  banners  of  the  National  Guards; 
and  the  day  closed  with  games,  dances,  and  invocations  to 
the  memory  of  the  Italians  who  had  fought  and  died  for 
their  nascent  liberties.  Amidst  all  the  vivas  and  the  clash 
of  bells  Bonaparte  took  care  to  sound  a  sterner  note.     On 


VII  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO  139 

that  very  day  he  ordered  the  suppression  of  a  Milanese 
club  which  had  indulged  in  Jacobinical  extravagances,  and 
he  called  on  the  people  "  to  show  to  the  world  bv  their 
wisdom,  energy,  and  by  the  good  organization  oi  their 
army,  that  modern  Italy  has  not  degenerated  and  is  still 
worthy  of  liberty." 

The  contagion  of  Milanese  enthusiasm  spread  rapidly. 
Some  of  the  Venetian  towns  on  the  mainland  now  peti- 
tioned for  union  with  the  Cisalpine  Republic;  and  the 
deputies  of  the  Cispadane,  who  were  present  at  the  festival, 
urgently  begged  that  their  little  State  might  enjoy  the 
same  privilege.  Hitherto  Bonaparte  had  refused  these 
requests,  lest  he  should  hamper  the  negotiations  with 
Austria,  which  were  still  tardily  proceeding ;  but  within 
a  month  their  wish  was  gratified,  and  the  Cispadane  State 
was  united  to  the  larger  and  more  vigorous  republic  north 
of  the  River  Po,  along  with  the  important  districts  of 
Como,  Bergamo,  Brescia,  Crema,  and  Peschiera.  Dis- 
turbances in  the  Swiss  district  of  the  Valteline  soon 
enabled  Bonaparte  to  intervene  on  behalf  of  the  oppressed 
peasants,  and  to  merge  this  territory  also  in  the  Cisalpine 
Republic,  which  consequently  stretched  from  the  high  Alps 
southward  to  Rimini,  and  from  the  Ticino  on  the  west 
to  the  Mincio  on  the  east.^ 

Already,  during  his  sojourn  at  the  Castle  of  Montebello, 
Bonaparte  figured  as  the  all-powerful  proconsul  of  the 
French  Republic.  Indeed,  all  his  surroundings  —  his 
retinue  of  complaisant  generals,  and  the  numerous  envoys 
and  agents  who  thronged  his  ante-chambers  to  beg  an 
audience  —  befitted  a  Sulla  or  a  Wallenstein,  rather  than 
a  general  of  the  regicide  Republic.  Three  hundred  Polish 
soldiers  guarded  the  approaches  to  the  castle ;  and  semi- 
regal  state  was  also  observed  in  its  spacious  corridors  and 
saloons.  There  were  to  be  seen  Italian  nobles,  literati, 
and  artists,  counting  it  the  highest  honour  to  visit  the 
liberator  of  their  land;  and  to  them  Bonaparte  behaved 
with  that  mixture  of  affability  and  inner  reserve,  of  seduc- 

^  The  name  Italian  was  rejected  by  Bonaparte  as  too  aggressively 
nationalistic ;  but  the  prefix  Cis  —  applied  to  a  State  which  stretched 
southward  to  the  Rubicon  —  was  a  concession  to  Italian  nationality.  It 
implied  that  Florence  or  Rome  was  the  natural  capital  of  the  new  State. 


140  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

tive  charm  alternating  with  incisive  cross-examination, 
which  proclaimed  at  once  the  versatility  of  his  gifts,  the 
keenness  of  his  intellect,  and  his  determination  to  gain 
social,  as  well  as  military  and  political,  supremacy.  And 
yet  the  occasional  abruptness  of  his  movements,  and  the 
strident  tones  of  command  lurking  beneath  his  silkiest 
speech,  now  and  again  reminded  beholders  that  he  was  of 
the  camp  rather  than  of  the  court.  To  his  generals  he 
was  distant ;  for  any  fault  even  his  favourite  officers  felt 
the  full  force  of  his  anger ;  and  aides-de-camp  were  not 
often  invited  to  dine  at  his  table.  Indeed,  he  frequently 
dined  before  his  retinue,  almost  in  the  custom  of  the  old 
Kings  of  France. 

With  him  w;as  his  mother,  also  his  brothers,  Joseph 
and  Louis,  whom  he  was  rapidly  advancing  to  fortune. 
There,  too,  were  his  sisters ;  Elisa,  proud  and  self-con- 
tained, who  at  this  period  married  a  noble  but  somewhat 
boorish  Corsican,  Bacciocchi;  and  Pauline,  a  charming 
girl  of  sixteen,  whose  hand  the  all-powerful  brother 
offered  to  Marmont,  to  be  by  him  unaccountably  -refused, 
owing,  it  would  seem,  to  a  prior  attachment.^  This  lively 
and  luxurious  young  creature  was  not  long  to  remain 
unwedded.  The  adjutant-general,  Leclerc,  became  her 
suitor ;  and,  despite  his  obscure  birth  and  meagre  talents, 
speedily  gained  her  as  his  bride.  Bonaparte  granted  her 
40,000  francs  as  her  dowry ;  and  —  significant  fact  —  the 
nuptials  were  privately  blessed  by  a  priest  in  the  chapel 
of  the  Palace  of  Montebello. 

There,  too,  at  Montebello  was  Josephine. 

Certainly  the  Bonapartes  were  not  happy  in  their  loves  : 
the  one  dark  side  to  the  young  conqueror's  life,  all  through 
this  brilliant  campaign,  was  the  cruelty  of  his  bride. 
From  her  side  he  had  in  March,  1796,  torn  himself  away, 
distracted  between  his  almost  insane  love  for  her  and  his 
determination  to  crush  the  chief  enemy  of  France:  to 
her  he  had  written  long  and  tender  letters  even  amidst 
the  superhuman  activities  of  his  campaign.  Ten  long 
despatches  a  day  had  not  prevented  him  covering  as 
many  sheets  of  paper  with  protestations  of  devotion  to 
her  and  with  entreaties  that  she  would  likewise  pour  out 

1  Marmont,  ^^Mems.,'*  vol.  i.,  p.  286. 


VII  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FOBMIO  141 

her  heart  to  him.  Then  came  complaints,  some  tenderly 
pleading,  others  passionately  bitter,  of  her  cruelly  rare 
and  meagre  replies.  The  sad  truth,  that  Josephine  cares 
much  for  his  fame  and  little  for  him  himself,  that  she 
delays  coming  to  Italy,  these  and  other  afQicting  details 
rend  his  heart.  At  last  she  comes  to  Milan,  after  a 
passionate  outburst  of  weeping  —  at  leaving  her  beloved 
Paris.  In  Italy  she  shows  herself  scarcely  more  than 
affectionate  to  her  doting  spouse.  Marlborough's  letters 
to  his  peevish  duchess  during  the  Blenheim  campaign  are 
not  more  crowded  with  maudlin  curiosities  than  those  of 
the  fierce  scourge  of  the  Austrians  to  his  heartless  fair. 
He  writes  to  her  agonizingly,  begging  her  to  be  less 
lovely,  less  gracious,  less  good  —  apparently  in  order  that 
he  may  love  her  less  madly :  but  she  is  never  to  be 
jealous,  and,  above  all,  never  to  weep :  for  her  tears  burn 
his  blood:  and  he  concludes  by  sending  millions  of 
kisses,  and  also  to  her  dog  I  And  this  mad  effusion  came 
from  the  man  whom  the  outside  world  took  to  be  of 
steel-like  coldness :  yet  his  nature  had  this  fevered, 
passionate  side,  just  as  the  moon,  where  she  faces  the 
outer  void,  is  compact  of  ice,  but  turns  a  front  of  molten 
granite  to  her  blinding,  all-compelling  luminary. 

Undoubtedly  this  blazing  passion  helped  to  spur  on 
the  lover  to  that  terrific  energy  which  makes  the  Italian 
campaign  unique  even  amidst  the  Napoleonic  wars. 
Beaulieu,  Wiirmser,  and  Alvintzy  were  not  rivals  in 
war ;  they  were  tiresome  hindrances  to  his  unsated  love. 
On  the  eve  of  one  of  his  greatest  triumphs  he  penned  to 
her  the  following  rhapsody  : 

**  I  am  far  from  you,  I  seem  to  be  surrounded  by  the  blackest  niffht : 
I  need  the  lurid  light  of  the  thunder-bolts  which  we  are  about  to  hurl 
on  our  enemies  to  dispel  the  darkness  into  which  your  absence  has 
plunged  me.  Josephine,  you  wept  when  we  parted :  you  wept  1  At 
that  thought  all  my  being  trembles.  But  be  consoled!  Wiirmser 
shall  pay  dearly  for  the  tears  which  I  have  seen  you  shed." 

What  infatuation  I  to  appease  a  woman's  fancied  grief, 
he  will  pile  high  the  plains  of  Mincio  with  corpses,  reck- 
ing not  of  the  thousand  homes  where  scalding  tears  will 
flow.     It  is  the  apotheosis  of  sentimental  egotism  and 


142  THE  LITE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

social  callousness.  And  yet  this  brain,  with  its  moral 
vision  hopelessly  blurred,  judged  unerringly  in  its  own 
peculiar  plane.  What  power  it  must  have  possessed, 
that,  unexhausted  by  the  flames  of  love,  it  grasped  in- 
fallibly the  myriad  problems  of  war,  scanning  them  the 
more  clearly,  perchance,  in  the  white  heat  of  its  own 
passion. 

At  last  there  came  the  time  of  fruition  at  Montebello  : 
of  fruition,  but  not  of  ease  or  full  contentment ;  for  not 
only  did  an  average  of  eight  despatches  a  day  claim  several 
hours,  during  which  he  jealously  guarded  his  solitude ; 
but  Josephine's  behaviour  served  to  damp  his  ardour. 
As,  during  the  time  of  absence,  she  had  slighted  his  urgent 
entreaties  for  a  daily  letter,  so  too,  during  the  sojourn  at 
Montebello,  she  revealed  the  shallowness  and  frivolity  of 
her  being.  Fetes,  balls,  and  receptions,  provided  they 
were  enlivened  by  a  light  crackle  of  compliments  from 
an  admiring  circle,  pleased  her  more  ^han  the  devotion 
of  a  genius.  She  had  admitted,  before  marriage,  that 
her  "  Creole  nonchalance  "  shrank  wearily  away  from  his 
keen  and  ardent  nature  ;  and  now,  when  torn  away  from 
the  salons  of  Paris,  she  seems  to  have  taken  refuge  in 
entertainments  and  lap-dogs.^  Doubtless  even  at  this 
period  Josephine  evinced  something  of  that  warm  feeling 
which  deepened  with  ripening  years  and  lit  up  her  later 
sorrows  with  a  mild  radiance  ;  but  her  recent  association 
with  Madame  Tallien  and  that  giddy  cohiie  had  accentu- 
ated her  habits  of  feline  complaisance  to  all  and  sundry. 
Her  facile  fondnesses  certainly  welled  forth  far  too  widely 
to  carve  out  a  single  channel  of  love  and  mingle  with  the 
deep  torrent  of  Bonaparte's  early  passion.  In  time,  there- 
fore, his  affections  strayed  into  many  other  courses  ;  and 
it  would  seem  that  even  in  the  later  part  of  this 
Italian  epoch  his  conduct  was  irregular.  For  this  Jose- 
phine had  herself  mainly  to  thank.  At  last  she  awakened 
to  the  real  value  and  greatness  of  the  love  which  her 
neglect  had  served  to  dull  and  tarnish,  but  then  it  was 
too  late  for  complete  reunion  of  souls  :  the  Corsican  eagle 


^  See  Arnault's  ^^Souyenirs  d*un  sezag^naire  **  (vol.  iii.,  p.  31)  and 
Levy's  **Napol6ou  intime,"  p.  131. 


VII 


LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO 


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VII  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO  143 

had  by  that  time  soared  far  beyond  reach  of  her  highest 
flutterings.^ 

At  Montebello,  as  also  at  Passeriano,  whither  the 
Austrian  negotiations  were  soon  transferred,  Bonaparte, 
though  strictly  maintaining  the  ceremonies  of  his  pro- 
consular court,  yet  showed  the  warmth  of  his  social 
instincts.  After  the  receptions  of  the  day  and  the  semi- 
public  dinner,  he  loved  to  unbend  in  the  evening. 
Sometimes,  when  Josepliine  formed  a  party  of  ladies  for 
vingt-et-un^  he  would  withdraw  to  a  corner  and  indulge 
in  the  game  of  goo9e ;  and  bystanders  noted  with  amuse- 
ment that  his  love  of  success  led  him  to  play  tricks  and 
cheat  in  order  not  to  "fall  into  the  pit."  At  other  times, 
if  the  conversation  languished,  he  proposed  that  each 
person  should  tell  a  story  ;  and  when  no  Boccaccio-like 
facility  inspired  the  company,  he  sometimes  launched  out 
into  one  of  those  eerie  and  thrilling  recitals,  sucli  as  he 
must  often  have  heard  from  the  improvtsatori  of  his 
native  island.  Bourrienne  states  that  Bonaparte's  realism 
required  darkness  and  daggers  for  the  full  display  of  his 
gifts,  and  that  the  climax  of  his  dramatic  monologue  was 
not  seldom  enhanced  by  the  screams  of  the  ladies,  a  con- 


^  For  the  subjoined  version  of  the  accompanying  new  letter  of  Bona- 
parte (referred  to  in  my  Preface)  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  H.  A.  L.  Fisher, 
in  the  **Eng.  Hist.  Rev.,"  July,  1900  : 

»» Milan,  20  Thennidor  [Pan  IV.]. 

**  A  LA   OITOTENVB  TaLLIBN  : 

**  Je  vous  dois  des  remerciements,  belle  citoyenne,  pour  le  souvenir 
que  Yous  me  conservez  et  pour  les  choses  aimables  contenues  dans  votre 
apostille.  Je  sals  bien  qu'en  vous  disant  que  je  regrette  les  moments 
heureuz  que  j*ai  pass^  dans  votre  soci^td  je  ne  vous  r^p^te  que  ce  que 
tout  le  monde  vous  dit.  Vous  connaitre  c^est  ne  plus  pouvoir  vous 
oublier:  §tre  loin  de  votre  aimable  personne  lorsque  Ton  a  goti/6  les 
charmes  de  votre  soci^t^  c'est  d^irer  vivement  de  s'en  rapprocher ;  mais 
Ton  dit  que  vous  allez  en  Espagne.  Fi  I  c^est  tr^s  vilain  k  moins  que  vous 
ne  soyez  de  retour  avant  trois  mois,  enfin  que  cet  hiver  nous  ayons  le  bon- 
heur  de  vous  voir  h  Paris.  Allez  done  en  Espagne  visiter  la  caveme  de 
Gil  Bias.  Moi  je  crois  aussi  visiter  toutes  les  antiquity  possibles,  enfin 
que  dans  le  cours  de  novembre  jusqu'^  f^vrier  nous  puissions  raconter 
Pensemble  (?).  Croyez-moi  avec  toute  la  consideration,  je  voulais  dire  le 
respect,  mais  je  sais  qu^en  g^n^ral  les  jolies  femmes  n^aiment  pas  ce 

mOt-liL  ^*  BONAPARTB. 

''  Mille  e  mille  chose  k  Tallien." 


^J 


144  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

summation  which  gp:titified   rather   than   perturbed   the 
accomplished  actor. 

A  survey  of  Bonaparte's  multifarious  activity  in  Italy 
enables  the  reader  to  realize  something  of  the  wonder  and 
awe  excited  by  his  achievements.  Like  an  Athena  he 
leaped  forth  from  the  Revolution,  fully  armed  for  every 
kind  of  contest.  His  mental  superiority  impressed  diplo- 
mats as  his  strategy  baffled  the  Imperialist  generals ;  and 
now  he  was  to  give  further  proofs  of  his  astuteness  by 
intervening  in  the  internal  affairs  of  France. 

In  order  to  understand  Bonaparte's  share  in  the  coup  cT 
Stat  of  Fructidor,  we  must  briefly  review  the  course  of 
political  events  at  Paris.  At  the  time  of  the  installation 
of  the  Directory  the  hope  was  widely  cherished  that  the 
Revolution  was  now  entirely  a  thing  of  the  past.  But  the 
unrest  of  the  time  was  seen  in  the  renewal  of  the  royalist 
revolts  in  the  west,  and  in  the  communistic  plot  of  Babeuf 
for  the  overthrow  of  the  whole  existing  system  of  private 
property.  The  aims  of  these  desperadoes  were  revealed 
by  an  accomplice ;  the  ringleaders  were  arrested,  and  after 
a  long  trial  Babeuf  was  guillotined  and  his  confederates 
were  transported  (May,  1797).  The  disclosure  of  these 
ultra-revolutionary  aims  shocked  not  only  the  bourgeois, 
but  even  the  peasants  who  were  settled  on  the  confiscated 
lands  of  the  nobles  and  clergy.  The  very  class  which  had 
given  to  the  events  of  1789  their  irresistible  momentum 
was  now  inclined  to  rest  and  be  thankful ;  and  in  this 
swift  revulsion  of  popular  feeling  the  royalists  began  to 
gain  ground.  The  elections  for  the  renewal  of  a  third 
part  01  the  Councils  resulted  in  large  gains  for  them,  and 
they  could  therefore  somewhat  influence  the  composition 
of  the  Directory  by  electing  Barthelemy,  a  constitutional 
royalist.  Still,  he  could  not  overbear  the  other  four  regi- 
cide Directors,  even  though  one  of  these,  Carnot,  also 
favoured  moderate  opinions  more  and  more.  A  crisis 
therefore  rapidly  developed  between  the  still  Jacobinical 
Directory  and  the  two  legislative  Councils,  in  each  of 
which  the  royalists,  or  moderates,  had  the  upper  hand. 
The  aim  of  this  majority  was  to  strengthen  the  royalist 
elements  in  France  by  the  repeal  of  many  revolutionary 
laws.     Their  man  of  action  was  Pichegru,  the  conqueror 


VII  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO  146 

of  Holland,  who,  abjuring  Jacobinism,  now  schemed  with 
a  club  of  royalists,  which  met  at  Clichy,  on  the  outskirts 
of  Paris.  That  their  intrigues  aimed  at  the  restoration  of 
the  Bourbons  had  recently  been  proved.  The  French 
agents  in  Venice  seized  the  Comte  d'Entraigues,  the  con- 
fidante of  the  soi'diaant  Louis  XYIIL;  and  his  papers, 
when  opened  by  Bonaparte,  Clarke,  and  Berthier  at  Mon- 
tebello,  proved  that  there  was  a  conspiracy  in  France  for 
the  recall  of  the  Bourbons.  With  characteristic  skill, 
Bonaparte  held  back  these  papers  from  the  Directory 
until  he  had  mastered  the  difficulties  of  the  situation.  As 
for  the  count,  he  released  him  ;  and  in  return  for  this  sig- 
nal act  of  clemency,  then  very  unusual  towards  an  SmigrS^ 
he  soon  became  the  object  of  his  misrepresentation  and 
slander. 

The  political  crisis  became  acute  in  July,  when  the  ma- 
jority of  the  Councils  sought  to  force  on  the  Directory 
Ministers  who  would  favour  moderate  or  royalist  aims. 
Three  Directors,  Barras,  La  Reveilliere-Lepeaux,  and  Rew- 
bell,  refused  to  listen  to  these  behests,  and  insisted  on  the 
appointment  of  Jacobinical  Ministers  even  in  the  teeth  of 
a  majority  of  the  Councils.  This  defiance  of  the  deputies 
of  France  was  received  with  execration  by  most  civilians, 
but  with  jubilant  acclaim  by  the  armies  ;  for  the  soldiery, 
far  removed  from  the  partisan  strifes  of  the  capital,  still 
retained  their  strongly  republican  opinions.  The  news 
that  their  conduct  towards  Venice  was  being  sharply  criti- 
cised by  the  moderates  in  Paris  aroused  their  strongest 
feelings,  military  pride  and  democratic  ardour. 

Nevertheless,  Bonaparte's  conduct  was  eminently  cau- 
tious and  reserved.  In  the  month  of  May  he  sent  to  Paris 
his  most  trusted  aide-de-camp,  Lavalette,  instructing  him 
to  sound  all  parties,  to  hold  aloof  from  all  engagements, 
and  to  report  to  him  dispassionately  on  the  state  of  public 
opinion.^  Lavalette  judged  the  position  of  the  Directory, 
or  rather  of  the  Triumvirate  which  swayed  it,  to  be  so  pre- 
carious that  he  cautioned  his  chief  against  any  definite 
espousal  of  its  cause  ;  and  in  June- July,  1797,  Bonaparte 

1  Lavalette,  **  M^ms./'  ch.  xiii. ;  Barras,  **  M^ms./*  vol.  ii.,  pp.  511-^12 ; 
and  Duchesse  d^Abrant^s,  ^^  M^ms.,^*  vol.  i.,  oh.  xxviii. 


146  THE   LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

almost  ceased  to  correspond  with  the  Directors  except  on 
Italian  affairs,  probably  because  he  looked  forward  to  their 
overthrow  as  an  important  step  towards  his  own  suprem- 
acy. There  was,  however,  the  possibility  of  a  royalist 
reaction  sweeping  aU  before  it  in  France  and  ranging  the 
armies  against  the  civil  power.  He  therefore  waited  and 
watched,  fully  aware  of  the  enhanced  importance  which  an 
uncertain  situation  gives  to  the  outsider  who  refuses  to 
show  his  hand. 

Duller  eyes  than  his  had  discerned  that  the  constitu- 
tional conflict  between  the  Directory  and  the  Councils 
could  not  be  peaceably  adjusted.  The  framers  of  the 
constitution  had  designed  the  slowly  changing  Directory 
as  a  check  on  the  Councils,  which  were  renewed  to  the 
extent  of  one-third  every  year ;  but,  while  seeking  to  put 
a  regicide  drag  on  the  parliamentary  coach,  they  had 
omitted  to  provide  against  a  complete  overturn.  The 
Councils  could  not  legally  override  the  Directory  ;  neither 
could  the  Directory  veto  the  decrees  of  the  Councils,  nor, 
by  dissolving  them,  compel  an  appeal  to  the  country. 
This  defect  in  the  constitution  had  been  clearly  pointed 
out  by  Necker,  and  it  now  drew  from  Barras  the  lament : 

"  Ah,  if  the  constitution  of  the  Year  ILL,  which  offers  so  many  sage 
precautions,  had  not  neglected  one  of  the  most  important ;  if  it  had 
foreseen  that  the  two  great  powers  of  the  State,  engaged  in  heated 
debates,  must  end  with  open  conflicts,  when  there  is  no  high  court  of 
appeal  to  arrange  them;  if  it  had  sufficiently  armed  the  Directory 
with  the  right  of  dissolving  the  Chamber  1 "  ^ 

As  it  was,  the  knot  had  to  be  severed  by  the  sword :  not, 
as  yet,  by  Bonaparte's  trenchant  blade  :  he  carefully  drew 
back  ;  but  where  as  yet  he  feared  to  tread,  Hoche  rushed 
in.  This  ardently  republican  general  was  inspired  by  a 
self-denying  patriotism,  that  flinched  not  before  odious 
duties.  While  Bonaparte  was  culling  laurels  in  Northern 
Italy,  Hoche  was  undertaking  the  most  necessary  task  of 
quelling  the  Vendean  risings,  and  later  on  braved  the  fogs 
and  storms  of  the  Atlantic  in  the  hope  of  rousing  all 
Ireland  in   revolt.      His    expedition  to   Bantry  Bay   in 

^Barras,  '^M^ms.,**  vol.  11.,  ch.  zzxi. ;  Madame  de  Stafil,  ^<Direc- 
toire,"  ch.  viii. 


VII  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO  147 

December,  1796,  having  miscarried,  he  was  sent  into  the 
Rhineland.  The  conclusion  of  peace  by  Bonaparte  at 
Leoben  again  dashed  his  hopes,  and  he  therefore  received 
with  joy  the  orders  of  the  Directory  that  he  should  march 
a  large  part  of  his  army  to  Brest  for  a  second  expedition 
to  Ireland.  The  Directory,  however,  intended  to  use 
those  troops  nearer  home,  and  appointed  him  Minister  of 
War  (July  16th),  The  choice  was  a  good  one ;  Hoche 
was  active,  able,  and  popular  with  the  soldiery;  but  he 
had  not  yet  reached  the  thirtieth  year  of  his  age,  the  limit 
required  by  the  constitution.  On  this  technical  defect 
the  majority  of  the  Councils  at  once  fastened ;  and  their 
complaints  were  redoubled  when  a  large  detachment  of 
his  troops  came  within  the  distance  of  the  capital  for- 
bidden to  the  army.  The  moderates  could  therefore 
accuse  the  triumvirs  and  Hoche  of  conspiracy  against  the 
laws  ;  he  speedily  resigned  the  Ministry  (July  22nd),  and 
withdrew  his  troops  into  Champagne,  and  finally  to  the 
Rhineland. 

Now  was  the  opportunity  for  BoAaparte  to  take  up  the 
r6le  of  Cromwell  which  Hoche  had  so  awkwardly  played. 
And  how  skilfully  the  conqueror  of  Italy  plays  it — through 
subordinates.  He  was  too  well  versed  in  statecraft  to  let 
his  sword  flash  before  the  public  gaze.  By  this  time  he 
had  decided  to  act,  and  doubtless  the  fervid  Jacobinism 
of  the  soldiery  was  the  chief  cause  determining  his  action. 
At  the  national  celebration  on  July  14th  he  allowed  it  to 
have  free  vent,  and  thereupon  wrote  to  the  Directory,  bit- 
terly reproaching  them  for  their  weakness  in  face  of  the 
royalist  plot :  "  I  see  that  the  Clichy  Club  means  to  march 
over  my  corpse  to  the  destruction  of  the  Republic."  He 
ended  the  diatribe  by  his  usual  device,  when  he  desired  to 
remind  the  Government  of  his  necessity  to  them,  of  offer- 
ing his  resignation,  in  case  they  refused  to  take  vigorous 
measures  against  the  malcontents.  Yet  even  now  his 
action  was  secret  and  indirect.  On  July  27th  he  sent  to 
the  Directors  a  brief  note  stating  that  Augereau  had  re- 
quested leave  to  go  to  Paris,  "  where  his  affairs  call  him  "; 
and  that  he  sent  by  this  general  the  originals  of  the  ad- 
dresses of  the  army,  avowing  its  devotion  to  the  constitu- 
tion.    No  one  would  suspect  from  this  that  Augereau  was 


148  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

in  Bonaparte's  confidence  and  came  to  carry  out  the  coup 
d'etat.  The  secret  was  well  preserved.  Lavalette  was 
Bonaparte's  official  representative  ;  and  his  neutrality  was 
now  maintained  in  accordance  with  a  note  received  from 
his  chief :  ^^  Augereau  is  coming  to  Paris :  do  not  piit 

Jourself  in  his  power  :  he  has  sown  disorder  in  the  army : 
e  is  a  factious  man." 

But,  while  Lavalette  was  left  to  trim  his  sails  as  best  he 
might,  Augereau  was  certain  to  act  with  energy.  Bona- 
parte knew  well  that  his  Jacobinical  lieutenant,  famed  as 
the  first  swordsman  of  the  day,  and  the  leader  of  the  fight- 
ing division  of  the  army,  would  do  his  work  thoroughly, 
always  vaunting  his  own  prowess  and  decrying  that  of  his 
commander.  It  was  so.  Augereau  rushed  to  Paris,  breath- 
ing threats  of  slaughter  against  the  royalists.  Checked  for 
a  time  by  the  calculating  finesse  of  the  triumvirs,  he  pre- 
pared to  end  matters  by  a  single  blow;  and,  when  the  time 
had  come,  he  occupied  the  strategic  points  of  the  capital, 
drew  a  cordon  of  troops  round  the  Tuileries,  where  the 
Councils  sat,  invaded  'the  chambers  of  deputies,  and  con- 
signed to  the  Temple  the  royalists  and  moderates  there 
present,  with  their  leader,  Pichegru.  Barthelemy  was  also 
seized  ;  but  Carnot,  warned  by  a  friend,  fled  during  the 
early  hours  of  this  eventful  day — September  4th  (or  18 
Fructidor).  The  mutilated  Councils  forthwith  annulled 
the  late  elections  in  fifty-three  Departments,  and  passed 
severe  laws  against  orthodox  priests  and  the  unpardoned 
SmigrSs  who  had  ventured  to  return  to  France.  The 
Directory  was  also  intrusted  with  complete  power  to  sup- 
press newspapers,  to  close  political  clubs,  and  to  declare 
any  commune  in  a  state  of  siege.  Its  functions  were  now 
wellnigh  as  extensive  and  absolute  as  those  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Public  Safety,  its  powers  being  limited  only  by 
the  incompetence  of  the  individual  Directors  and  by  their 
paralyzing  consciousness  that  they  ruled  only  by  favour  of 
the  army.  They  haji  taken  the  sword  to  solve  a  political 
problem :  two  years  later  they  were  to  fall  by  that  sword.^ 
Augereau  fully  expected  that  he  would  be  one  of  the 
two  Directors  who  were  elected  in  place  of  Carnot  and 
Barthelemy  ;  but  the  Councils  had  no  higher  opinion  of 

1  "  M^moires  de  Oohier  " ;  Boederer,  "  (Euvres,"  tome  iii.,  p.  294. 


vn  I<EOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FOBMIO  149 

his  civic  capacity  than  Bonaparte  had  formed  ;  and,  to  his 
great  disgust,  Merlin  of  Douai  and  Frangois  of  Neuf chatel 
were  chosen.  The  hist  scenes  of  the  coup  d'Stat  centred 
around  the  transportation  of  the  condemned  deputies.  One 
of  the  early  memories  of  the  future  Due  de  Broglie  recalled 
the  sight  of  the  "  dSputSi  fructidoriiSs  travelling  in  closed 
carriages,  railed  up  like  cages,"  to  the  seaport  whence  they 
were  to  sail  to  the  lingering  agonies  of  a  tropical  prison  in 
French  Guiana.  ^^  It  was  a  painful  spectacle :  the  indig- 
nation was  great,  but  the  consternation  was  greater  still. 
Everybody  foresaw  the  renewal  of  the  Reign  of  Terror 
and  resignedly  prepared  for  it." 

Such  were  the  feelings,  even  of  those  who,  like  Madame 
de  Stael  and  her  friend  Benjamin  Constant,  had  declared 
before  the  coup  d'Stat  that  it  was  necessary  to  the  salva- 
tion of  the  Republic.  That  accomplished  woman  was 
endowed  with  nearly  every  attribute  of  genius  except 
political  foresight  and  self-restraint.  No  sooner  had  the 
blow  been  dealt  than  she  fell  to  deploring  its  results, 
which  any  fourth-rate  intelligence  might  have  foreseen. 
"Liberty  was  the  only  power  really  conquered"  —  such 
was  her  later  judgment  on  Fructidor.  Now  that  Liberty 
fled  affrighted,  the  errant  enthusiasms  of  the  gifted  author- 
ess clung  for  a  brief  space  to  Bonaparte.  Her  eulogies  on 
his  exploits,  says  Lavalette,  who  listened  to  her  through  a 
dinner  in  Talleyrand's  rooms,  possessed  all  the  mad  dis- 
order and  exaggeration  of  inspiration;  and,  after  the 
repast  was  over,  the  votaress  refused  to  pass  out  before 
an  aide-de-camp  of  Bonaparte  I  The  incident  is  char- 
acteristic both  of  Madame  de  Stael's  moods  and  of  the 
whims  of  the  populace.  Amidst  the  disenchantments  of 
that  time,  when  the  pursuit  of  liberty  seemed  but  an  idle 
quest,  when  royalists  were  the  champions  of  parliament- 
ary rule  and  republicans  relied  on  military  force,  all  eyes 
turned  wearily  away  from  the  civic  broils  at  Paris  to  the 
visions  of  splendour  revealed  by  the  conqueror  of  Italy. 
Few  persons  knew  how  largely  their  new  favourite  was 
responsible  for  the  events  of  Fructidor ;  all  of  them  had 
by  heart  the  names  of  his  victories;  and  his  popularity 
flamed  to  the  skies  when  he  re-crossed  the  Alps,  bringing 
with  him  a  lucrative  peace  with  Austria. 


150  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

The  negotiations  with  that  Power  had  dragged  on  slowly- 
through  the  whole  summer  and  far  into  the  autumn,  mainly 
owing  to  the  hopes  of  the  Emperor  Francis  that  the  dis- 
order in  France  would  filch  from  her  the  meed  of  victory. 
Doubtless  that  would  have  been  the  case,  had  not  Bona- 
parte, while  striking  down  the  royalists  at  Paris  through 
his  lieutenant,  remained  at  the  head  of  his  victorious  legions 
in  Venetia  ready  again  to  invade  Austria,  if  occasion  should 
arise. 

In  some  respects,  the  coup  cCStat  of  Fructidor  helped  on 
the  progress  of  the  negotiations.  That  event  postponed, 
if  it  did  not  render  impossible,  the  advent  of  civil  war  in 
France;  and,  like  Pride's  Purge  in  our  civil  strifes,  it 
installed  in  power  a  Government  which  represented  the 
feelings  of  the  army  and  of  its  chief.  Moreover,  it  rid 
him  of  the  presence  of  Clarke,  his  former  colleague  in  the 
negotiations,  whose  relations  with  Carnot  aroused  the  sus- 
picions of  Barras  and  led  to  his  recall.  Bonaparte  was  now 
the  sole  plenipotentiary  of  France.  The  final  negotiations 
with  Austria  and  the  resulting  treaty  of  Campo  Formio 
may  therefore  be  considered  as  almost  entirely  his  handi- 
work. 

And  yet,  at  this  very  time,  the  head  of  the  Foreign 
Office  at  Paris  was  a  man  destined  to  achieve  the  greatest 
diplomatic  reputation  of  the  age.  Charles  Maurice  de 
Talleyrand  seemed  destined  for  the  task  of  uniting  the 
society  of  the  old  rSgime  with  the  France  of  the  Revolu- 
tion. To  review  his  life  would  be  to  review  the  Revolu- 
tion. With  a  reforming  zeal  begotten  of  his  own  intellectual 
acuteness  and  of  resentment  against  his  family,  which  had 
disinherited  him  for  the  crime  of  lameness,  he  had  led  the 
first  assaults  of  1789  against  the  privileges  of  the  nobles 
and  of  the  clerics  among  whom  his  lot  had  perforce  been 
cast.  He  acted  as  the  head  of  the  new  "  constitutional " 
clergy,  and  bestowed  his  episcopal  blessing  at  the  Feast 
of  Pikes  in  1790 ;  but,  owing  to  his  moderation,  he  soon 
fell  into  disfavour  with  the  extreme  men  who  seized  on 
power.  After  a  sojourn  in  England  and  the  United  States, 
he  came  back  to  France,  and  on  the  suggestion  of  Madame 
de  Stael  was  appointed  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs  (July, 
1797).     To  this  post  he  brought  the  highest  gifts:   his 


Til  LEOBEN  TO  CABiPO  FOBMIO  161 

early  clerical  training  gave  a  keen  edge  to  an  intellect 
naturally  subtle  and  penetrating  :  his  intercourse  with 
Mirabeau  gave  him  a  grip  on  the  essentials  of  sound  policy 
and  diplomacy :  his  sojourn  abroad  widened  his  vision, 
and  imbued  him  with  an  admiration  for  English  institu- 
tions and  English  moderation.  Yet  he  loved  France  with 
a  deep  and  fervent  love.  For  her  he  schemed ;  for  her  he 
threw  over  friends  or  foes  with  a  Macchiavellian  facility. 
Amidst  all  the  glamour  of  the  Napoleonic  Empire  he  dis- 
cerned the  dangers  that  threatened  France ;  and  he  warned 
his  master  —  as  uselessly  as  he  warned  reckless  nobles, 
priestly  bigots,  and  fanatical  Jacobins  in  the  past,  or  the 
unteachable  zealots  of  the  restored  monarchy.  His  life, 
when  viewed,  not  in  regard  to  its  many  sordid  details, 
but  to  its  chief  guiding  principle,  was  one  long  campaign 
against  French  Slan  and  partisan  obstinacy ;  and  he  sealed 
it  with  the  quaint  declaration  in  his  will  that,  on  review- 
ing his  career,  he  found  he  had  never  abandoned  a  party 
before  it  had  abandoned  itself.  Talleyrand  was  equipped 
with  a  diversity  of  gifts :  his  gaze,  intellectual  yet  com- 
posed, blenched  not  when  he  uttered  a  scathing  criticism 
or  a  diplomatic  lie :  his  deep  and  penetrating  voice  gave 
force  to  all  his  words,  and  the  curl  of  his  lip  or  the  scorn- 
ful lifting  of  his  eyebrows  sometimes  disconcerted  an 
opponent  more  than  his  biting  sarcasm.  In  brief,  this 
disinherited  noble,  this  unfrocked  priest,  this  disen- 
chanted Liberal,  was  the  complete  expression  of  the 
inimitable  society  of  the  old  rSgime^  when  quickened 
intellectually  by  Voltaire  and  dulled  by  the  Terror. 
After  doing  much  to  destroy  the  old  society,  he  was 
now  to  take  a  prominent  share  in  its  reconstruction  on 
a  modern  basis.^ 

Such  was  the  man  who  now  commenced  his  chief  life- 
work,  the  task  of  guiding  Napoleon.  "The  mere  name 
of  Bonaparte  is  an  aid  which  ought  to  smooth  away  all 
my  difficulties"  —  these  were  the  obsequious  terms  in 
which  he  began  his  correspondence  with  the  great  general. 
In  reality,  he  distrusted  him  ;  but  whether  from  diffidence 

1  Brougham,  **  Sketches  of  Statesmen ; "  Ste.  Benve,  **  TaUeyrand ;  ^* 
Lady  Blennerhasset,  **  Talleyrand.*' 


152  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

or  from  the  weakness  of  his  own  position,  which  as  yet 
was  little  more  than  that  of  the  head  clerk  of  his  depart- 
ment, he  did  nothing  to  assert  the  predominance  of  civil 
over  military  influence  in  the  negotiations  now  proceed- 
ing. 

Two  months  before  Talleyrand  accepted  office,  Bona- 
parte had  enlarged  his  original  demands  on  Austria,  and 
claimed  for  France  the  whole  of  the  lands  on  the  left  or 
west  bank  of  the  Rhine,  and  for  the  Cisalpine  Republic 
all  the  territory  up  to  the  River  Adige.  To  these  demands 
the  Court  of  Vienna  offered  a  tenacious  resistance  which 
greatly  irritated  him.  "These  people  are  so  slow,"  he 
exclaimed,  "  they  think  that  a  peace  like  this  ought  to  be 
meditated  upon  for  three  years  first." 

Concurrently  with  the  Franco-Austrian  negotiations, 
overtures  for  a  peace  between  France  and  England  were 
being  discussed  at  Lille.  Into  these  it  is  impossible  to 
enter  farther  than  to  notice  that  in  these  efforts  Pitt  and 
the  other  British  Ministers  (except  Grenville)  were  sin- 
cerely desirous  of  peace,  and  that  negotiations  broke  down 
owing  to  the  masterful  tone  adopted  by  the  Directory. 
It  was,  perhaps,  unfortunate  that  Lord  Malmesbury  was 
selected  as  the  English  negotiator,  for  his  behaviour  in  the 
previous  year  had  been  construed  by  the  French  as  dila- 
tory and  insincere.  But  the  Directors  may  on  better 
evidence  be  charged  with  postponing  a  settlement  until 
they  had  struck  down  their  foes  within  France.  Bona- 
parte's letters  at  this  time  show  that  he  hoped  for  the 
conclusion  of  a  peace  with  England,  doubtless  in  order 
that  his  own  pressure  on  Austria  might  be  redoubled.  In 
this  he  was  to  be  disappointed.  After  Fructidor  the 
Directory  assumed  overweening  airs.  Talleyrand  was 
bidden  to  enjoin  on  the  French  plenipotentiaries  the  adop- 
tion of  a  loftier  tone.  Maret,  the  French  envoy  at  Lille, 
whose  counsels  had  ever  been  on  the  side  of  moderation, 
was  abruptly  replaced  by  a  "  Fructidorian  "  ;  and  a  deci- 
sive refusal  was  given  to  the  English  demand  for  the 
retention  of  Trinidad  and  the  Cape,  at  the  expense  of 
Spain  and  the  Batavian  Republic  respectively.  Indeed, 
the  Directory  intended  to  press  for  the  cession  of  the 
Channel  Islands  to  France  and  of  Gibraltar  to  Spain,  and 


▼II  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO  163 

that,  too,  at  the  end  of  a  maritime  war  fruitful  in  victo- 
ries for  the  Union  Jack.^ 

Towards  the  King  of  Sardinia  the  new  Directory  was 
equally  imperious.  The  throne  of  Turin  was  now  occu- 
pied by  Charles  Emmanuel  IV.  He  succeeded  to  a  troub- 
lous heritage.  Threatened  by  democratic  republics  at 
Milan  and  Genoa,  and  still  more  by  the  eiBfervescence  of 
his  own  subjects,  he  strove  to  gain  an  offensive  and  defen- 
sive alliance  with  France,  as  the  sole  safeguard  against 
revolution.  To  this  end  he  offered  10,000  Piedmontese 
for  service  with  Bonaparte,  and  even  secretly  offered  to 
cede  the  island  of  Sardinia  to  France.  But  these  offers 
could  not  divert  Barras  and  his  colleagues  from  their 
revolutionary  policy.  They  spurned  the  alliance  with 
the  House  of  Savoy,  and,  despite  the  remonstrances  of 
Bonaparte,  they  fomented  civil  discords  in  Piedmont 
such  as  endangered  his  communications  with  France.  In- 
deed, the  Directory  after  Fructidor  was  deeply  imbued 
with  fear  of  their  commander  in  Italy.  To  increase 
his  difficulties  was  now  their  paramount  desire ;  and 
under  the  pretext  of  extending  liberty  in  Italy,  they  in- 
structed Talleyrand  to  insist  on  the  inclusion  of  Venice 
and  Friuli  in  the  Cisalpine  Republic.  Austria  must  be 
content  with  Trieste,  Istria,  and  Dalmatia,  must  renounce 
all  interest  in  the  fate  of  the  Ionian  Isles,  and  find  in 

1  InstnictioDfl  of  Talleyrand  to  the  French  envoys  (September  11th)  ; 
also  Ernouf^s  ^*  Maret,  Due  de  Bassano,'*  chs.  xzvii.  and  xxyiii.,  for  the 
bona  fides  of  Pitt  in  these  negotiations. 

It  seems  strange  that  Baron  du  Casse,  in  his  generally  fair  treatment  of 
the  English  case,  in  his  '^  N^ociations  relatives  aux  Traiti^s  de  Lun^ville 
et  d^  Amiens,'*  should  have  prejudiced  his  readers  at  the  outset  by  refer- 
ring to  a  letter  which  he  attributes  to  Lord  Malmesbury.  It  bears  no 
date,  no  name,  and  purports  to  be  ^'  Une  Lettre  de  Lord  Malmesbury, 
oubli^  h,  Lille.''  How  could  the  following  sentences  have  been  penned 
by  Malmesbury,  and  written  to  Lord  Grenville  ?  —  *'  Mais  enfin,  outre  les 
regrets  sind^res  de  M^t  et  des  danseuses  de  TOp^ra,  j'eus  la  consolation 
de  voir  en  quittant  Paris,  que  des  FrauQais  et  une  multitude  de  nouveauz 
converts  k  la  religion  catholique  m'accompagnaient  de  leurs  vobux,  de 
leurs  pri^res,  et  presque  de  leurs  larmes.  .  .  .  L'^v^uement  de  Fructidor 
porta  la  d^olation  dans  le  coBur  de  tous  les  bons  ennemis  de  la  France. 
Pour  ma  part,  j'en  fut  constem^ :  je  ne  Vavais  point  pr^ti."  It  is  obvi- 
onsly  the  clumsy  fabrication  of  a  Ftuctidorian,  designed  for  Parisian  con- 
sumption :  it  was  translated  by  a  Whig  pamphleteer  under  the  title  ^*  The 
Voice  of  Truth  1 "  —  a  fit  sample  of  that  partisan  malevolence  which  dis- 
torted a  great  part  of  our  political  literature  in  that  age. 


154  THE   LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Germany  all  compensation  for  her  losses  in  Italy.  Such 
was  the  ultimatum  of  the  Directory  (September  15th). 
But  a  loophole  of  escape  was  left  to  Bonaparte  ;  the  con- 
duct of  these  negotiations  was  confided  solely  to  him,  and 
he  had  already  decided  their  general  tenor  by  gfiving  his 
provisional  assent  to  the  acquisition  by  Austria  of  the  east 
bank  of  the  Adige  and  the  city  of  Venice.  From  these 
terms  he  was  disinclined  to  diverge.  He  was  weary  of 
"  this  old  Europe  '* :  his  gaze  was  directed  towards  Corfu, 
Malta,  and  Egypt ;  and  when  he  received  the  official  ulti- 
matum, he  saw  that  the  Directory  desired  a  renewal  of 
the  war  under  conditions  highly  embarrassing  for  him. 
"  Yes :  I  see  clearly  that  they  are  preparing  defeats  for 
me,*'  he  exclaimed  to  his  aide-de-camp  Lavalette.  They 
angered  him  still  more  when,  on  the  death  of  Hoche,  they 
intrusted  their  Rhenish  forces,  numbering  120,000  men, 
to  the  command  of  Augereau,  and  sent  to  the  Army  of 
Italy  an  officer  bearing  a  manifesto  written  by  Aufi^reau 
concerning  Fructidor,  which  set  forth  the  anxiety  felt  by 
the  Directors  concerning  Bonaparte's  political  views.  At 
this  Bonaparte  fired  up  and  again  offered  his  resignation 
(September  25th) : 

"  No  power  on  earth  shall,  after  this  horrible  and  most  unexpected 
act  of  ingratitude  by  the  Government,  make  me  continue  to  serve  it. 
My  health  imperiously  demands  calm  and  repose.  .  .  .  My  recom- 
pense is  in  my  conscience  and  in  the  opinion  of  posterity.  Believe 
me,  that  at  any  time  of  danger,  I  shall  be  the  first  to  defend  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  Year  III." 

The  resignation  was  of  course  declined,  in  terms  most 
flattering  to  Bonaparte ;  and  the  Directors  prepared  to 
ratify  the  treaty  with  Sardinia. 

Indeed,  the  fit  of  passion  once  passed,  the  determina- 
tion to  dominate  events  again  possessed  him,  and  he  de- 
cided to  make  peace,  despite  the  recent  instructions  of 
the  Directory  that  no  peace  would  be  honourable  which 
sacrificed  Venice  to  Austria.  There  is  reason  to  believe 
that  he  now  regretted  this  sacrifice.  His  passionate  out- 
bursts against  Venice  after  the  Pdques  v^ronaises^  his  de- 
nunciations of  "that  fierce  and  blood-stained  rule,"  had 
now  given  place  to  some  feelings  of  pity  for  the  people 
whose  ruin  he  had  so  artfully  compassed ;  and  the  social 


VII  LEOBEN  TO  CAMPO  FORMIO  165 

intercourse  with  Venetians  which  he  enjoyed  at  Passeriano, 
the  castle  of  the  Doge  Manin,  may  well  have  inspired 
some  regard  for  the  proud  city  which  he  was  now  about 
to  barter  away  to  Austria.  Only  so,  however,  could  he 
peacefully  terminate  the  wearisome  negotiations  with  the 
Emperor.  The  Austrian  envoy,  Count  Cobenzl,  struggled 
hard  to  gain  the  whole  of  Venetia,  and  the  Legations, 
along  with  the  half  of  Lombardy.^  From  these  exorbi- 
tant demands  he  was  driven  by  the  persistent  vigour  of 
Bonaparte's  assaults.  The  little  Corsican  proved  nimself 
an  expert  in  diplomatic  wiles,  now  enticing  the  Imperial- 
ist on  to  slippery  ground,  and  occasionally  shocking  him 
by  calculated  outbursts  of  indignation  or  bravado.  After 
many  days  spent  in  intellectual  fencing,  the  discussions 
were  narrowed  down  to  Mainz,  Mantua,  Venice,  and  the 
Ionian  Isles.  On  the  fate  of  these  islands  a  stormy  dis- 
cussion arose,  Cobenzl  stipulating  for  their  complete  inde- 
pendence, while  Bonaparte  passionately  claimed  them  for 
France.  In  one  of  these  sallies  his  vehement  gestures 
overturned  a  cabinet  with  a  costly  vase  ;  but  the  story 
that  he  smashed  the  vase,  as  a  sign  of  his  power  to  crush 
the  House  of  Austria,  is  a  later  refinement  on  the  inci- 
dent, about  which  Cobenzl  merely  reported  to  Vienna — 
"He  behaved  like  a  fool."  Probably  his  dextrous  dis- 
closure of  the  severe  terms  which  the  Directory  ordered 
him  to  extort  was  far  more  effective  than  this  boisterous 
gasconnade.  Finally,  after  threatening  an  immediate  at- 
tack on  the  Austrian  positions,  he  succeeded  on  three  of 
the  questions  above  named,  but  at  the  sacrifice  of  Venice 
to  Austria. 

The  treaty  was  signed  on  October  17th  at  the  village 
of  Campo  Formio.  The  published  articles  may  be  thus 
summarized :  Austria  ceded  to  the  French  Republic  her 
Belgic  provinces.  Of  the  once  extensive  Venetian  pos- 
sessions France  gained  the  Ionian  Isles,  while  Austria 
acquired  Istria,  Dalmatia,  the  districts  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Cattaro,  the  city  of  Venice,  and  the  mainland  of 
Venetia  as  far  west  as  Lake  Garda,  the  Adige,  and  the 
lower  part  of  the  River  Po.  The  Hapsburgs  recognized 
the  independence  of  the  now  enlarged  Cisalpine  Republic. 

1  Bonaparte^s  letters  of  September  28th  and  October  7th  to  Talleyrand. 


166  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap,  vii 

France  and  Austria  agreed  to  frame  a  treaty  of  com- 
merce on  the  basis  of  ^^the  most  favoured  nation.'' 
The  Emperor  ceded  to  the  dispossessed  Duke  of  Modena 
the  territory  of  Breisgau  on  the  east  of  the  Rhine.  A 
congress  was  to  be  held  at  Rastadt,  at  which  the  pleni- 
potentiaries of  France  and  of  the  Germanic  Empire  were 
to  regulate  affairs  between  these  two  Powers. 

Secret  articles  bound  the  Emperor  to  use  his  influence 
in  the  Empire  to  secure  for  France  the  left  bank  of  the 
Rhine;  while  France  was  to  use  her  good  offices  to 
procure  for  the  Emperor  the  Archbishopric  of  Salzburg 
and  the  Bavarian  land  between  that  State  and  the  River 
Inn.  Other  secret  articles  referred  to  the  indemnities 
which  were  to  be  found  in  Germany  for  some  of  the 
potentates  who  suffered  by  the  changes  announced  in 
the  public  treaty. 

The  bartering  away  of  Venice  awakened  profound  indig- 
nation. After  more  than  a  thousand  years  of  indepen- 
dence, that  city  was  abandoned  to  the  Emperor  by  the  very 
general  who  had  promised  to  free  Italy.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Bonaparte  strove  to  soothe  the  provisional  govern- 
ment of  that  city  through  the  influence  of  a  Venetian  Jew, 
who,  after  his  conversion,  had  taken  the  famous  name  of 
Dandolo.  Summoning  him  to  Passeriano,  he  explained  to 
him  the  hard  necessity  which  now  dictated  the  transfer  of 
Venice  to  Austria.  France  could  not  now  shed  any  more 
of  her  best  blood  for  what  was,  after  all,  only  "  a  moral 
cause " :  the  Venetians  therefore  must  cultivate  resigna- 
tion for  the  present  and  hope  for  the  future.  The  advice 
was  useless.  The  Venetian  democrats  determined  on  a 
last  desperate  venture.  They  secretly  sent  three  deputies, 
among  them  Dandolo,  with  a  large  sum  of  money  where- 
with to  bribe  the  Directors  to  reject  the  treaty  of  Campo 
Formio.  This  would  have  been  quite  practicable,  had  not 
their  errand  become  known  to  Bonaparte.  Alarmed  and 
enraged  at  this  device,  which,  if  successful,  would  have 
consigned  him  to  infamy,  he  sent  Duroc  in  chase;  and 
the  envoys,  caught  before  they  crossed  the  Maritime  Alps, 
were  brought  before  the  general  at  Milan.  To  his  vehe- 
ment reproaches  and  threats  they  opposed  a  dignified 
silence,  until  Dandolo,  appealing  to  his  generosity,  awak- 


CENTRAL  BUROPB 


The  boaadorieB  of  the  Holy  Romnn  Empire  ue  indicated  b;  thick  dot& 
The  Austrian  Dominions  are  indicated  b^  vertical  lines. 
The  Hmsstan  Dominioua  are  indicaled  by  horizontal  lines. 
The  Ecclesiastical  Slates  are  indicated  b;  dotted  areas. 


168  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap,  vii 

ened  those  nobler  feelings  which  were  never  long  dormant. 
Then  he  quietly  dismissed  them — to  witness  the  downfall 
of  their  beloved  city. 

Acribtis  initiis^  ut  ferme  taHa^  incurtosa  fine;  these  cyni- 
cal words,  with  which  the  historian  of  the  Roman  Empire 
blasted  the  movements  of  his  age,  may  almost  serve  as  the 
epitaph  to  Bonaparte's  early  enthusiasms.  Proclaiming 
at  the  beginning  of  his  Italian  campaigns  that  he  came  to 
free  Italy,  he  yet  finished  his  course  of  almost  unbroken 
triumphs  by  a  surrender  which  his  panegyrists  have 
scarcely  attempted  to  condone.  But  the  fate  of  Venice 
was  almost  forgotten  amidst  the  jubilant  acclaim  which 
greeted  the  conqueror  of  Italy  on  his  arrival  at  Paris. 
AH  France  rang  with  the  praises  of  the  hero  who  had 
spread  liberty  throughout  Northern  and  Central  Italy, 
had  enriched  the  museums  of  Paris  with  priceless  master- 
pieces of  art,  whose  army  had  captured  150,000  prisoners, 
and  had  triumphed  in  18  pitched  battles  —  for  Caldiero 
was  now  reckoned  as  a  French  victory  —  and  47  smaller 
engagements.  The  Directors,  shrouding  their  hatred  and 
fear  of  the  masterful  proconsul  under  their  Roman  togas, 
greeted  him  with  uneasy  effusiveness.  The  climax  of  the 
ofl&cial  comedy  was  reached  when,  at  the  reception  of  the 
conqueror,  Barras,  pointing  northwards,  exclaimed :  "  Go 
there  and  capture  the  giant  corsair  that  infests  the  seas : 
go  punish  in  London  outrages  that  have  too  long  been 
unpunished  "  :  whereupon,  as  if  overcome  by  his  emotions, 
he  embraced  the  general.  Amidst  similar  attentions  be- 
stowed by  the  other  Directors,  the  curtain  falls  on  the 
first,  or  Italian,  act  of  the  young  hero's  career,  soon  to  rise 
on  oriental  adventures  that  were  to  recall  the  exploits  of 
Alexander. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

EGYPT 

Among  the  many  misconceptions  of  the  French  revolu- 
tionists none  was  more  insidious  than  the  notion  that  the 
wealth  and  power  of  the  British  people  rested  on  an  arti- 
ficial basis.  This  mistaken  belief  in  England's  weakness 
arose  out  of  the  doctrine  taught  by  the  Economistei  or 
Physiocrates  in  the  latter  half  of  last  century,  that  com- 
merce was  not  of  itself  productive  of  wealth,  since  it 
only  promoted  the  distribution  of  the  products  of  the 
earth ;  but  that  agriculture  was  the  sole  source  of  true 
wealth  and  prosperity.  They  therefore  exalted  agricul- 
ture at  the  expense  of  commerce  and  manufactures,  and 
the  course  of  the  Revolution,  which  turned  largely  on 
agrarian  questions,  tended  in  the  same  direction.  Robes- 
pierre and  St.  Just  were  never  weary  of  contrasting  the 
virtues  of  a  simple  pastoral  life  with  the  corruptions  and 
weakness  engendered  by  foreign  commerce  ;  and  when, 
early  in  1793,  Jacobinical  zeal  embroiled  the  young  Re- 
public with  England,  the  orators  of  the  Convention  confi- 
dently prophesied  the  downfall  of  the  modern  Carthage. 
Kersaint  declared  that  "  the  credit  of  England  rests  upon 
fictitious  wealth:  .  .  .  bounded  in  territory,  the  public 
future  of  England  is  found  almost  wholly  in  its  bank,  and 
this  edifice  is  entirely  supported  by  naval  commerce.  It 
is  easy  to  cripple  this  commerce,  and  especially  so  for  a 
power  like  France,  which  stands  alone  on  her  own  riches."^ 

Commercial  interests  played  a  foremost  part  all  through 
the  struggle.  The  official  correspondence  of  Talleyrand 
in  1797  proves  that  the  Directory  intended  to  claim  the 
Channel  Islands,  the  north  of  Newfoundland,  and  all  our 

1  See  too  Marsh's  **  Politicks  of  Great  Britain  and  France,'*  ch.  xiii. ; 
"Correspondence  of  W.  A.  Miles  on  the  French  Revolution,"  letters  of 
January  7th  and  January  18th,  1793 ;  also  SybePs  **  Europe  during  the 
French  Revolution,**  vol.  ii. 

169 


160  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

conquests  in  the  East  Indies  made  since  1754,  besides  the 
restitution  of  Gibraltar  to  Spain.  ^  Nor  did  these  hopes 
seem  extravagant.  The  financial  crisis  in  London  and 
the  mutiny  at  the  Nore  seemed  to  betoken  the  exhaustion 
of  England,  while  the  victories  of  Bonaparte  raised  the 
power  of  France  to  heights  never  known  before.  Before 
the  victory  of  Duncan  over  the  Dutch  at  Camperdown 
(October  11th,  1797),  Britain  seemed  to  have  lost  her 
naval  supremacy. 

The  recent  admission  of  State  bankruptcy  at  Paris, 
when  two-thirds  of  the  existing  liabilities  were  practi- 
cally expunged,  sharpened  the  desire  of  the  Directory  to 
compass  England's  ruin,  an  enterprise  which  might  serve 
to  restore  French  credit  and  would  certainly  engage  those 
vehement  activities  of  Bonaparte  that  could  otherwise 
work  mischief  in  Paris.  On  his  side  he  gladly  accepted 
the  command  of  the  Army  of  England. 

"The  people  of  Paris  do  not  remember  anything,"  he  said  to 
Bourrienne.  "  Were  I  to  remain  here  long,  doing  nothing,  I  should 
be  lost.  In  this  great  Babylon  everything  wears  out :  my  glory  has 
already  disappeared.  This  little  Europe  does  not  supply  enough  of 
it  for  me.  I  must  seek  it  in  the  East :  all  great  fame  comes  from 
that  quarter.  However,  I  wish  first  to  make  a  tour  along  the  [north- 
ern] coast  to  see  for  myself  what  may  be  attempted.  If  the  success 
of  a  descent  upon  England  appear  doubtful,  as  I  suspect  it  will,  the 
Army  of  England  shall  become  the  Army  of  the  East,  and  I  go  to 
Egypt."  3 

In  February,  1798,  he  paid  a  brief  visit  to  Dunkirk 
and  the  Flemish  coast,  and  concluded  that  the  invasion 
of  England  was  altogether  too  complicated  to  be  hazarded 
except  as  a  last  desperate  venture.  In  a  report  to  the 
Government  (February  23rd)  he  thus  sums  up  the  whole 
situation  : 

"  Whatever  efforts  we  make,  we  shall  not  for  some  years  gain  the 
naval  supremacy.  To  invade  England  without  that  supremacy  is 
the  most  daring  and  difficult  task  ever  undertaken.  ...  If,  having 
regard  to  the  present  organization  of  our  navy,  it  seems  impossible  to 

1  Pallain,  *'  Le  Minist^re  de  Talleyrand  sous  le  Birectoire,*'  p.  42. 

*  Bourrienne,  **  Memoirs,"  vol.  !.,  ch.  xii.  See  too  the  despatch  of 
Sandoz-BolUn  to  Berlin  of  February  28th,  1798,  in  Bailleu's  '*  Preussen 
und  Frankreich,*^  vol.  i.,  No.  160. 


viu  EGYPT  161 

gain  the  necessary  promptness  of  execution,  then  we  must  really  give 
up  the  expedition  against  England,  be  satisfied  with  keeping  up  the  pre- 
tence of  it,  and  concentrate  ul  our  attention  and  resources  on  the 
Rhine,  in  order  to  try  to  deprive  England  of  Hanover  and  Hamburg :  ^ 
...  or  else  undertake  an  eastern  expedition  which  would  menace 
her  trade  with  the  Indies.  And  if  none  of  these  three  operations  is 
practicable,  I  see  nothing  else  for  it  but  to  conclude  peace  with 
England." 

The  greater  part  of  his  career  serves  as  a  commentary 
on  these  designs.  To  one  or  other  of  them  he  was  con- 
stantly turning  as  alternative  schemes  for  the  subjuga- 
tion of  his  most  redoubtable  foe.  The  first  plan  he  now 
judged  to  be  impracticable  ;  the  second,  which  appears 
later  in  its  fully  matured  form  as  his  Continental  System, 
was  not  for  t^e  present  feasible,  because  France  was 
about  to  settle  German  aiSairs  at  the  Congress  of  Ra- 
stadt ;  to  the  third  he  therefore  turned  the  whole  force 
of  his  genius. 

The  conquest  of  Egypt  and  the  restoration  to  France 
of  her  Supremacy  in  India  appealed  to  both  sides  of 
Bonaparte's  nature.  The  vision  of  the  tricolour  floating 
above  the  minarets  of  Cairo  and  the  palace  of  the  Great 
Mogul  at  Delhi  fascinated  a  mind  in  which  the  mysticism 
of  the  south  was  curiously  blent  with  the  practicality 
and  passion  for  details  that  characterize  the  northern 
races.  To  very  few  men  in  the  world's  history  has  it 
been  granted  to  dream  grandiose  dreams  and  all  but 
realize  them,  to  use  by  turns  the  telescope  and  the  micro- 
scope of  political  survey,  to  plan  vast  combinations  of 
force,  and  yet  to  supervise  with  infinite  care  the  adjust- 
ment of  every  adjunct.  Csesar,  in  the  old  world,  was 
possibly  the  mental  peer  of  Bonaparte  in  this  majestic 
equipoise  of  the  imaginative  and  practical  qualities  ;  but 
of  Caesar  we  know  domparatively  little ;  whereas  the 
complex  workings  of  the  greatest  mind  of  the  modern 
world  stand  revealed  in  that  storehouse  of  facts  and 
fancies,  the   "  Correspondance  de  Napoleon."      The  mo- 

1  The  italics  are  my  own.  I  wish  to  call  attention  to  the  statement  in 
yiew  of  the  much-debated  question  whether  in  1804--5  Napoleon  intended 
to  invade  our  land,  unless  he  gained  maritime  supremaqf.  See  Dea- 
bri^re's  ^'ProjetB  de  D^barquement  aux  Hes  Britanniques,*'  vol.  1.,  ad 
Jin. 


162  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

tives  which  led  to  the  Eastern  Expedition  are  there  un- 
folded. In  the  letter  which  he  wrote  to  Talleyrand 
shortly  before  the  signature  of  the  peace  of  Campo  For- 
mio  occurs  this  suggestive  passage  : 

**  The  character  of  our  nation  is  to  be  far  too  vivacious  amidst  pros- 
perity. If  we  take  for  the  basis  of  all  our  operations  true  policy,  which 
IS  nothing  else  than  the  calculation  of  combinations  and  chances,  we 
shall  long  be  la  grande  nation  and  the  arbiter  of  Europe.  I  say  more : 
we  hold  the  balance  of  Europe :  we  will  make  that  balance  incline  as 
we  wish ;  and,  if  such  is  the  order  of  fate,  I  think  it  by  no  means  im- 
possible that  we  may  in  a  few  years  attain  those  grand  results  of  which 
the  heated  and  enthusiastic  imagination  catches  a  glimpse,  and  which 
the  extremely  cool,  persistent,  and  calculating  man  will  alone  attain." 

This  letter  was  written  when  Bonaparte  was  bartering 
away  Venice  to  the  Emperor  in  consideration  of  the  acqui- 
sition by  France  of  the  Ionian  Isles.  Its  reference  to  the 
vivacity  of  the  French  was  doubtless  evoked  by  the  orders 
which  he  then  received  to  "  revolutionize  Italy."  To  do 
that,  while  the  Directory  further  extorted  from  England 
Gibraltar,  the  Channel  Islands,  and  her  eastern  conquests, 
was  a  programme  dictated  by  excessive  vivacity.  The 
Directory  lacked  the  practical  qualities  that  selected  one 
great  enterprise  at  a  time,  and  brought  to  bear  on  it  the 
needful  concentration  of  effort.  In  brief,  he  selected 
the  war  against  England's  eastern  commerce  as  his  next 
sphere  of  action ;  for  it  offered  "  an  arena  vaster,  more 
necessary  and  resplendent "  than  war  with  Austria  ;  "  if 
we  compel  the  [British]  Government  to  a  peace,  the  advan- 
tages we  shall  gain  for  our  commerce  in  both  hemispheres 
wul  be  a  great  step  towards  the  consolidation  of  liberty 
and  the  public  welfare."  ^ 

For  this  eastern  expedition  he  had  already  prepared. 
In  May,  1797,  he  had  suggested  the  seizure  of  Malta  from 
the  Knights  of  St.  John ;  and  when,  on  September  27th, 
the  Directory  gave  its  assent,  he  sent  thither  a  French  com- 
missioner, Poussielgue,  on  a  "  commercial  mission,"  to  in- 
spect those  ports,  and  also,  doubtless,  to  undermine  the 
discipline  of  the  Knights.     Now  that  the  British  had  re- 

1  Letter  of  October  lOth,  1797 ;  see  too  those  of  August  16th  and  Sep- 
tember 13th. 


Till  EGYPT  163 

tired  from  Corsica,  and  France  disposed  of  the  maritime 
resources  of  Northern  Italy,  Spain,  and  Holland,  it  seemed 
quite  practicable  to  close  the  Mediterranean  to  those  ^^  in- 
triguing and  enterprising  islanders,"  to  hold  them  at  bay 
in  their  dull  northern  seas,  to  exhaust  them  by  ruinous 
preparations  against  expected  descents  on  their  southern 
coasts,  on  Ireland,  and  even  on  Scotland,  while  Bonaparte's 
eastern  conquests  dried  up  the  sources  of  their  wealth  in 
the  Orient :  "  Let  us  concentrate  all  our  activity  on  our 
navy  and  destroy  England.  That  done,  Europe  is  at  our 
feet."  1 

But  he  encountered  opposition  from  the  Directory. 
They  still  clung  to  their  plan  of  revolutionizing  Italy ; 
and  only  by  playing  on  their  fear  of  the  army  could  he 
bring  these  civilians  to  assent  to  the  expatriation  of  35,000 
troops  and  their  best  generals.  On  La  Reveilliere-Le- 
peaux  the  young  commander  worked  with  a  skill  that 
veiled  the  choicest  irony.  This  Director  was  the  high- 
priest  of  a  newly-invented  cult,  termed  ThSo-philanthropie^ 
into  the  dull  embers  of  which  he  was  still  earnestly  blow- 
ing. To  this  would-be  prophet  Bonaparte  now  suggested 
that  the  eastern  conquests  would  furnish  a  splendid  field 
for  the  spread  of  the  new  faith  ;  and  La  Reveilliere  was 
forthwith  converted  from  his  scheme  of  revolutionizing 
Europe  to  the  grander  sphere  of  moral  proselytism  opened 
out  to  him  in  the  East  by  the  very  chief  who,  on  landing 
in  Egypt,  forthwith  professed  the  Moslem  creed. 

After  gaining  the  doubtful  assent  of  the  Directory, 
Bonaparte  had  to  face  urgent  financial  difficulties.  The 
dearth  of  money  was,  however,  met  by  two  opportune  inter- 
ventions. The  first  of  these  was  in  the  affairs  of  Rome. 
The  disorders  of  the  preceding  year  in  that  city  had  cul- 
minated at  Christmas  in  a  riot  in  which  General  Duphot 

1  The  plan  of  menacing  diverse  partis  of  our  coasts  was  kept  up  by  Bona- 
parte as  late  as  April  18th,  1798.  In  his  letter  of  this  date  he  still  speaks 
of  the  invasion  of  England  and  Scotland,  and  promises  to  return  from 
Egypt  in  three  or  four  months,  so  as  to  proceed  with  the  invasion  of  the 
United  Kingdom.  Boulay  de  la  Meurthe,  in  his  work,  "  Le  Directoire  et 
TExp^dition  d'Egypte,"  ch.  i.,  seems  to  take  this  promise  seriously.  In 
any  case  the  Directors'  hopes  for  the  invasion  of  Ireland  were  dashed  by 
the  premature  rising  of  the  Irish  malcontents  in  May,  1798.  For  Pous- 
sielgue's  mission  to  Malta,  see  Lavalette's  **  Mems.,''  ch.  xiv. 


164  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

had  been  assassinated ;  this  outrage  furnished  the  pre- 
text desired  by  the  Directory  for  revolutionizing  Central 
Italy.  Berthier  was  at  once  ordered  to  lead  French  troops 
against  the  Eternal  City.  He  entered  without  resistance 
(February  13th,  1798),  declared  the  civil  authority  of  the 
Pope  at  an  end,  and  proclaimed  the  restoration  of  the 
Roman  Republic.  The  practical  side  of  the  liberating 
policy  was  soon  revealed.  A  second  time  the  treasures 
of  Rome,  both  artistic  and  financial,  were  rifled  ;  and,  as 
Lucien  Bonaparte  caustically  remarked  in  his  ^'  Memoirs," 
the  chief  duty  of  the  newly-appointed  consuls  and  quaes- 
tors was  to  superintend  the  packing  up  of  pictures  and 
statues  designed  for  Paris.  Berthier  not  only  laid  the 
basis  of  a  large  private  fortune,  but  showed  his  sense  of 
the  object  of  the  expedition  by  sending  large  sums  for  the 
equipment  of  the  armada  at  Toulon.  ^^  In  sending  me  to 
Rome,"  wrote  Berthier  to  Bonaparte,  "  you  appoint  me 
treasurer  to  the  expedition  against  England.  I  will  try 
to  fill  the  exchequer." 

The  intervention  of  the  Directory  in  the  affairs  of 
Switzerland  was  equally  lucrative.  The  inhabitants  of 
the  district  of  Vaud,  in  their  struggles  against  the  oppres- 
sive rule  of  the  Bernese  oligarchy,  had  offered  to  the 
French  Government  the  excuse  for  interference :  and  a 
force  invading  that  land  overpowered  the  levies  of  the 
central  cantons.^  The  imposition  of  a  centralized  form 
\  of  government  modelled  on  that  of  France,  the  wresting 
}  of  Geneva  from  this  ancient  confederation,  and  its  incor- 
♦  poration  with  France,  were  not  the  only  evils  suffered  by 
Switzerland.  Despite  the  proclamation  of  General  Brune 
that  the  French  came  as  friends  to  the  descendants  of 
William  Tell,  and  would  respect  their  independence  and 
their  property,  French  commissioners  proceeded  to  rifle 
the  treasuries  of  ^erne,  Ziirich,  Solothurn,  Fribourg,  and 
Lucerne  of  sums  which  amounted  in  all  to  eight  and  a 
half  million  francs ;  fifteen  millions  were  extorted  in 
forced  contributions  and  plunder,  besides  180  cannon 
and  60,000  muskets  which  also  became  the  spoils  of  the 

1  Mallet  du  Pan  states  that  three  thousand  Vaudois  came  to  Berne  to 
join  in  the  national  defence:  **Les  cantons  d^mocratiques  sort  les  plus 
fanatis^s  centre  les  Fran^ais  *'  —  a  suggestive  remark. 


VIII  EGYPT  166 

liberators.^  The  destination  of  part  of  the  treasure  was 
already  fixed  ;  on  April  13th  Bonaparte  wrote  an  urgent 
letter  to  General  Lannes,  directing  him  to  expedite  the 
transit  of  the  booty  to  Toulon,  where  three  million  francs 
were  forthwith  expended  on  the  completion  of  the  armada. 
This  letter,  and  also  the  testimony  of  Madame  de 
Stael,  Barras,  Bourrienne,  and  Mallet  du  Pan,  show  that 
he  must  have  been  a  party  to  this  interference  in  Swiss , 
affairs,  which  marks  a  debasement,  not  only  of  Bona- 
parte's character,  but  of  that  of  the  French  army  and 
people.  It  drew  from  Coleridge,  who  previously  had  seen 
in  the  Revolution  the  dawn  of  a  nobler  era,  an  indignant 
protest  against  the  prostitution  of  the  ideas  of  1789  : 

'*  Oh  France  that  mockest  Heaven,  adulterous,  bUnd, 
Are  these  thy  boasts,  champion  of  human  kind? 
To  mix  with  Kings  in  the  low  lust  of  sway, 
Yell  in  the  hunt  and  join  the  murderous  prey?  .  .  . 
The  sensual  and  the  dark  rebel  in  vain 
Slaves  by  their  own  compulsion.    In  mad  game 
They  burst  their  manacles :  but  wear  the  name 
Of  Freedom,  graven  on  a  heavier  chain.'' 

The  occupation  by  French  troops  of  the  great  central 
bastion  of  the  European  system  seemed  a  challenge,  not 
only  to  idealists,  but  to  German  potentates.  It  nearly 
precipitated  a  rupture  with  Vienna,  where  the  French 
tricolour  had  recently  been  torn  down  by  an  angry  crowd. 
But  Bonaparte  did  his  utmost  to  prevent  a  renewal  of 
war  that  would  blight  his  eastern  prospects ;  and  he  suc- 
ceeded. One  last  trouble  remained.  At  his  final  visit  to 
the  Directory,  when  crossed  about  some  detail,  he  pas- 
sionately threw  up  his  command.  Thereupon  Rewbell, 
noted  for  his  incisive  speech,  drew  up  the  form  of  resig- 
nation, and  presenting  it  to  Bonaparte,  firmly  said,  ^^  Sign, 
citizen  general."  The  general  did  not  sign,  but  retired 
from  the  meeting  apparently  crestfallen,  but  really  medi- 
tating a  coup  d'Stat.  This  last  statement  rests  on  the  evi- 
dence of  Mathieu  Dumas,  who  heard  it  through  General 
Desaix,  a  close  friend  of  Bonaparte ;  and  it  is  clear  from 
the  narratives  of  Bourrienne,  Barras,  and  Madame  Junot 

iDftndliker,  **Geschichte  der  Schweiz,"  vol.  ill.,  p.  360  (edition  of 
1896)  ;  also  Lavisse,  **La  R6v.  Fran9.,"  p.  821. 


166  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

that,  during  his  last  days  in  Paris,  the  general  was  moody, 
preoccupied,  and  fearful  of  being  poisoned. 

At  last  the  time  of  preparation  and  suspense  was  at  an 
end.  The  aims  of  the  expedition  as  officially  defined  by 
a  secret  decree  on  April  12th  included  the  capture  of 
Egypt  and  the  exclusion  of  the  English  from  ^^all  their 
possessions  in  the  East  to  which  the  general  can  come  " ; 
Bonaparte  was  also  to  have  the  isthmus  of  Suez  cut 
through ;  to  '^  assure  the  free  and  exclusive  possession  of 
the  Red  Sea  to  the  French  Republic";  to  improve  the 
condition  of  the  natives  of  Egypt,  and  to  cultivate  good 
relations  with  the  Grand  Siguier.  Another  secret  decree 
empowered  Bonaparte  to  seize  Malta.  To  these  schemes 
he  added  another  of  truly  colossal  dimensions.  After  con- 
quering the  East,  he  would  rouse  the  Greeks  and  other 
Christians  of  the  East,  overthrow  the  Turks,  seize  Con- 
stantinople, and  "  take  Europe  in  the  r6ar." 

Generous  support  was  accorded  to  the  savants  who  were 
desirous  of  exploring  the  artistic  and  literary  treasures  of 
Egypt  and  Mesopotamia.  It  has  been  affirmed  by  the 
biographer  of  Monge  that  the  enthusiasm  of  this  cele- 
brated  physicist  first  awakened  Bonaparte's  desire  for  the 
eastern  expedition ;  but  this  seems  to  have  been  aroused 
earlier  by  Volney,  who  saw  a  good  deal  of  Bonaparte  in 
1791.  In  truth,  the  desire  to  wrest  the  secrets  of  learn- 
ing from  the  mysterious  East  seems  always  to  have 
spurred  on  his  keenly  inquisitive  nature.  During  the 
winter  months  of  1797-8  he  attended  the  chemical  lec- 
tures of  the  renowned  BerthoUet;  and  it  was  no  per- 
functory choice  which  selected  him  for  the  place  in  the 
famous  institute  left  vacant  by  the  exile  of  Carnot.  The 
manner  in  which  he  now  signed  his  orders  and  proclama- 
tions —  Member  of  the  Institute,  General  in  Chief  of  the 
Army  of  the  East  —  showed  his  determination  to  banish 
from  the  life  of  France  that  affectation  of  boorish  igno- 
rance by  which  the  Terrorists  had  rendered  themselves 
uniquely  odious. 

After  long  delays,  caused  by  contrary  winds,  the  armada 
set  sail  from  Toulon.  Along  with  the  convoys  from  Mar- 
seilles, Genoa,  and  Civita  v  ecchia,  it  finally  reached  the 
grand  total  of  13  ships  of  the  line,  14  frigates,  72  cor- 


Till  EGYPT  167 

yettes,  and  nearly  400  transports  of  various  sizes,  convey- 
ing 35,000  troops.  Admiral  Brueys  was  the  admiral,  but 
acting  under  Bonaparte.  Of  the  generals  whom  the  com- . 
mander-in-chief  took  with  him,  the  highest  in  command 
were  the  divisional  generals  Kleber,  Desaix,  Bon,  Menou, 
Reynier,  for  the  infantry :  under  them  served  14  generals, 
a  few  of  whom,  as  Marmont,  were  to  achieve  a  wider  fame. 
The  cavalry  was  commanded  by  the  stalwart  mulatto. 
General  Alexandre  Dumas,  under  whom  served  Leclerc, 
the  husband  of  Pauline  Bonaparte,  along  with  two  men 
destined  to  world-wide  renown,  Murat  and  Davoust. 
The  artillery  was  commanded  by  Dommartin,  the  engi- 
neers by  Caffarelli :  and  the  heroic  Lannes  was  quarter- 
master-general. 

The  armada  appeared  off  Malta  without  meeting  with 
any  incident.  This  island  was  held  by  the  Knights  of 
St.  John,  the  last  of  those  companies  of  Christian  war- 
riors who  had  once  waged  war  on  the  infidels  in  Pales- 
tine. Their  courage  had  evaporated  in  luxurious  ease, 
and  their  discipline  wa^  a  prey  to  intestine  schisms  and 
to  the  intrigues  carried  on  with  the  French  Knights  of 
the  Order.  A  French  fleet  had  appeared  off  Valetta  in 
the  month  of  March  in  the  hope  of  effecting  a  surprise ; 
but  the  admiral,  Brueys,  judging  the  effort  too  hazard- 
ous, sent  an  awkward  explanation,  which  only  served  to 
throw  the  knights  into  the  arms  of  Russia.  One  of  the 
chivalrous  dreams  of  the  Czar  Paul  was  that  of  spreading 
his  influence  in  the  Mediterranean  by  a  treaty  with  this 
Order.  It  gratified  his  crusading  ardour  and  promised  to 
Russia  a  naval  base  for  the  partition  of  Turkey  which  was 
then  being  discussed  with  Austria  :  to  secure  the  control 
of  the  island,  Russia  was  about  to  expend  400,000  roubles, 
when  Bonaparte  anticipated  Muscovite  designs  by  a  prompt 
seizure.^  An  excuse  was  easily  found  for  a  rupture  with 
the  Order :  some  companies  of  troops  were  disembarked, 
and  hostilities  commenced. 

Secure  within  their  mighty  walls,  the  knights  might  have 
held  the  intruders  at  bay,  had  they  not  been  divided  by 
internal  disputes:  the  French  knights  refused  to  fight 
against  their  countrymen  ;  and  a  revolt  of  the  native  Mal- 

1  "Correspondance,"  No.  2676. 


168  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

tese,  long  restless  under  the  yoke  of  the  Order,  now  helped 
to  bring  the  Grand  Master  to  a  surrender.  The  Evidence 
of  the  English  consul,  Mr.  Williams,  seems  to  show  that 
the  discontent  of  the  natives  was  even  more  potent  than 
the  influence  of  French  gold  in  bringing  about  this  result.^ 
At  any  rate,  one  of  the  strongest  places  in  Europe  admit- 
ted a  French  garrison,  after  so  tame  a  defence  that  Gen- 
eral Caflfarelli,  on  viewing  the  fortifications,  remarked  to 
Bonaparte  :  "  Upon  my  word,  general,  it  is  lucky  there 
was  some  one  in  the  townto  open  the  gates  to  us." 

During  his  stay  of  seven  days  at  Malta,  Bonaparte  re- 
vealed the  vigour  of  those  organizing  powers  for  which 
the  half  of  Europe  was  soon  to  present  all  too  small  an 
arena.  He  abolished  the  Order,  pensioning  off  those 
French  knights  who  had  been  serviceable  :  he  abolished 
the  religious  houses  and  confiscated  their  domains  to  the 
service  of  the  new  government :  he  established  a  govern- 
mental commission  acting  under  a  military  governor  :  he 
continued  provisionally  the  existing  taxes,  and  provided 
for  the  imposition  of  customs,  excise,  and  octroi  dues :  he 
prepared  the  way  for  the  improvement  of  the  streets,  the 
erection  of  fountains,  the  reorganization  of  the  hospitals 
and  the  post  office.  To  the  university  he  gave  special 
attention,  rearranging  the  curriculum  on  the  model  of  the 
more  advanced  Scales  centrales  of  France,  but  inclining 
the  studies  severely  to  the  exact  sciences  and  the  useful 
arts.  On  all  sides  he  left  the  imprint  of  his  practical 
mind,  that  viewed  life  as  a  game  at  chess,  whence  bishops 
and  knights  were  carefully  banished,  and  wherein  nothing 
was  left  but  the  heavy  pieces  and  subservient  pawns. 

After  dragging  Malta  out  of  its  mediaeval  calm  and 
plunging  it  into  the  full  swirl  of  modern  progress,  Bona- 
parte set  sail  for  Egypt.  His  exchequer  was  the  richer 
by  all  the  gold  and  silver,  whether  in  bullion  or  in  vessels, 
discoverable  in  the  treasury  of  Malta  or  in  the  Church  of 

1**  Foreign  Office  Records,"  Malta  (No.  1).  Mr.  Williams  states  in 
his  despatch  of  June  30th,  1798,  that  Bonaparte  knew  there  were  four 
thousand  Maltese  in  his  favour,  and  that  most  of  the  French  knights 
were  puhlicly  known  to  he  so ;  but  he  adds :  ^^  I  do  believe  the  Mai  tees 
Isic]  have  given  the  island  to  the  French  in  order  to  get  rid  of  the 
knighthood." 


vm  EGYPT  169 

St.  John.  Fortnnately,  the  silver  gates  of  this  church  had 
been  coloured  over,  and  thus  escaped  the  fate  of  the  other 
treasures.^  On  the  voyage  to  Alexandria  he  studied  the 
library  of  books  which  he  had  requested  Bourrienne  to 
purchase  for  him.  The  composition  of  this  library  is  of 
interest  as  showing  the  strong  trend  of  his  thoughts 
towards  history,  though  at  a  later  date  he  was  careful  to 
limit  its  study  in  the  university  and  schools  which  he 
founded.  He  had  with  him  126  volumes  of  historical 
works,  among  which  the  translations  of  Thucydides,  Plu- 
tarch, Tacitus,  and  Livy  represented  the  life  of  the  ancient 
world,  while  in  modern  life  he  concentrated  his  attention 
chiefly  on  the  manners  and  institutions  of  peoples  and  the 
memoirs  of  great  generals  —  as  Turenne,  Conde,  Luxem- 
bourg, Saxe,  Marlborough,' Eugene,  and  Charles  XII.  Of 
the  poets  he  selected  the  so-called  Ossian,  Tasso,  Ariosto, 
Homer,  Virgil,  and  the  masterpieces  of  the  French  theatre; 
but  he  especially  affected  the  turgid  and  declamatory  style 
of  Ossian.  In  romance,  English  literature  was  strongly 
represented  by  forty  volumes  of  novels,  of  course  in  trans- 
lations. Besides  a  few  works  on  arts  and  sciences,  he 
also  had  with  him  twelve  volumes  of  "  Barclay's  Geog- 
raphy," and  three  volumes  of  "Cook's  Voyages,"  which 
show  that  his  thoughts  extended  to  the  antipodes;  and 
under  the  heading  of  Politics  he  included  the  Bible,  the 
Koran,  thfe  Vedas,  a  Mythology,  and  Montesquieu's  "  Es- 
prit des  Lois "  !  The  composition  and  classification  of 
this  library  are  equally  suggestive.  Bonaparte  carefully 
searched  out  the  weak  places  of  the  organism  which  he 
was  about  to  attack  —  in  the  present  campaign,  Egypt  and 
the  British  Empire.  The  climate  and  natural  products, 
the  genius  of  its  writers  and  the  spirit  of  its  religion  — 
nothing  came  amiss  to  his  voracious  intellect,  which  as- 
similated the  most  diverse  materials  and  pressed  them 
all  into  his  service.  Greek  mythology  provided  allusions 
for  the  adornment  of  his  proclamations,  the  Koran  would 
dictate  his  behaviour  towards  the  Moslems,  and  the  Bible 
was  to  be  his  guide-book  concerning  the  Druses  and  Ar- 

^  I  am  indebted  for  this  fact  to  the  Librarian  of  the  Priory  of  the 
Knights  of  St  John,  Clerkenwell. 


170  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

menians.      All  three  were    therefore  grouped  together 
under  the  head  of  Politics. 

And  this,  on  the  whole,  fairly  well  represents  his  men- 
tal attitude  towards  religion :  at  least,  it  was  his  work-a- 
day  attitude.  There  were  moments,  it  is  true,  when  an 
overpowering  sense  of  the  majesty  of  the  universe  lifted 
his  whole  being  far  above  this  petty  opportunism :  and  in 
those  moments,  which,  in  regard  to  the  declaratiouTof  char- 
acter may  surely  be  held  to  counterbalance  whole  months 
spent  in  tactical  shifts  and  diplomatic  wiles,  he  was  capa- 
ble of  soaring  to  heights  of  imaginative  reverence.  Such 
an  episode,  lighting  up  for  us  the  recesses  of  his  mind, 
occurred  during  his  voyage  to  Egypt.  The  savants  on 
board  his  ship,  "L' Orient,"  were  discussing  one  of  those 
questions  which  Bonaparte  often  propounded,  in  order 
that,  as  arbiter  in  this  contest  of  wits,  he  might  gauge 
their  mental  powers.  Mental  dexterity,  rather  than  the 
Socratic  pursuit  after  ti*uth,  was  the  aim  of  their  dialec- 
tic; but  on  one  occasion,  when  religion  was  being  dis- 
cussed, Bonaparte  sounded  a  deeper  note  :  looking  up  into 
the  midnight  vault  of  sky,  he  said  to  the  philosophizing 
atheists :  "  Very  ingenious,  sirs,  but  who  made  all  that  ?  " 
As  a  retort  to  the  tongue-fencers,  what  could  be  better  ? 
The  appeal  away  from  words  to  the  star-studded  caiiopy 
was  irresistible :  it  affords  a  signal  proof  of  what  Carlyle 
has  finely  called  his  "  instinct  for  nature  "  and  his  *'  ine- 
radicable feeling  for  reality."  This  probably  was  the 
true  man,  lying  deep  under  his  Moslem  shifts  and  Con- 
cordat bargainings. 

That  there  was  a  tinge  of  superstition  in  Bonaparte's 
nature,  such  as  usually  appears  in  gifted  scions  of  a  coast- 
dwelling  family,  cannot  be  denied ;  ^  but  his  usual  attitude 
towards  religion  was  that  of  the  political  mechanician,  not 
of  the  devotee,  and  even  while  professing  the  forms  of 
fatalistic  belief,  he  really  subordinated  them  to  his  own 
designs.  To  this  profound  calculation  of  the  credulity 
of  mankind  we  may  probably  refer  his  allusions  to  his 
star.  The  present  writer  regards  it  as  almost  certain 
that  his  star  was  invoked  in  order  to  dazzle  the  vulgar 
herd.     Indeed,  if  we  may  trust  Miot  de  Melito,  the  First 

^  See,  for  a  curious  instance,  Chaptal,  ^*  Mes  Souvenirs,**  p.  243. 


vin  EGYPT  171 

Consul  once  confessed  as  much  to  a  circle  of  friends. 
"Caesar,"  he  said,  "was  right  to  cite  his  good  fortune 
and  to  appear  to  believe  in  it.  That  is  a  means  of  acting 
on  the  imagination  of  others  without  offending  anyone's 
self-love."  A  strange  admission  this;  what  boundless 
self-confidence  it  implies  that  he  should  have  admitted 
the  trickery.  The  mere  acknowledgment  of  it  is  a  proof 
that  he  felt  himself  so  far  above  the  plane  of  ordinary 
mortals  that,  despite  the  disclosure,  he  himself  would 
continue  to  be  his  own  star.  For  the  rest,  is  it  credible 
that  this  analyzing  genius  could  ever  have  seriously 
adopted  the  astrologer's  creed?  Is  there  anything  in 
his  early  note-books  or  later  correspondence  which  war- 
rants such  a  belief?  Do  not  all  his  references  to  his 
star  occur  in  proclamations  and  addresses  intended  for 
popular  consumption? 

Certainly  Bonaparte's  good  fortune  was  conspicuous 
all  through  these  eastern  adventures,  and  never  more  so 
than  when  he  escaped  the  pursuit  of  Nelson.  The  Eng- 
lish admiral  had  divined  his  aim.  Setting  all  sail,  he 
came  almost  within  sight  of  the  French  force  near  Crete, 
and  he  reached  Alexandria  barely  two  days  before  his 
foes  hove  in  sight.  Finding  no  nostile  force  there,  he 
doubled  back  on  his  course  and  scoured  the  seas  between 
Crete,  Sicily,  and  the  Morea,  until  news  received  from  a 
Turkish  official  again  sent  him  eastwards.  On  such  trifles 
does  the  fate  of  empires  sometimes  depend. 

Meanwhile  events  were  crowding  thick  and  fast  upon 
Bonaparte.  To  free  himself  from  uie  terrible  risks  which 
had  menaced  his  force  off  the  Egyptian  coast,  he  landed 
his  troops,  35,000  strong,  with  all  possible  expedition  at 
Marabout  near  Alexandria,  and,  directing  his  columns  of 
attack  on  the  walls  of  that  city,  captured  it  by  a  rush 
(July  2nd). 

For  this  seizure  of  neutral  territory  he  offered  no  ex- 
cuse other  than  that  the  Beys,  who  were  the  real  rulers  of 
Egypt,  had  favoured  English  commerce  and  were  guilty 
of  some  outrages  on  French  merchants.  He  strove,  how- 
ever, to  induce  the  Sultan  of  Turkey  to  believe  that  the 
French  invasion  of  Egypt  was  a  friendly  act,  as  it  would 
overthrow  the  power  of  the  Mamelukes,  who  had  reduced 


172  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Turkish  authority  to  a  mere  shadow.  This  was  the  argu- 
ment which  he  addressed  to  the  Turkish  officials,  but  it 
proved  to  be  too  subtle  even  for  the  oriental  mind  fully 
to  appreciate.  Bonaparte's  chief  concern  was  to  win  over 
the  subject  population,  which  consisted  of  diverse  races. 
At  the  surface  were  the  Mamelukes,  a  powerful  mili- 
tary order,  possessing  a  magnificent  cavalry,  governed  by 
two  Beys,  and  scarcely  recognizing  the  vague  suzerainty 
claimed  by  the  Porte.  The  rivalries  of  the  Beys,  Murad 
and  Ibrahim,  produced  a  fertile  crop  of  discords  in  this 
governing  caste,  and  their  feuds  exposed  the  subject 
races,  both  Arabs  and  Copts,  to  constant  forays  and 
exactions.  It  seemed  possible,  therefore,  to  arouse  them 
against  the  dominant  caste,  provided  that  the  Moham- 
medan scruples  of  the  whole  population  were  carefully 
respected.  To  this  end,  the  commander  cautioned  his 
troops  to  act  towards  the  Moslems  as  towards  ^^Jews 
and  Italians,"  and  to  respect  their  muftis  and  imams  as 
much  as  ^^  rabbis  and  bishops."  He  also  proclaimed  to  the 
Egyptians  his  determination,  while  overthrowing  Mame- 
luke tyranny,  to  respect  the  Moslem  faith:  "Have  we 
not  destroyed  the  Pope,  who  bade  men  wage  war  on  Mos- 
lems? Have  we  not  destroyed  the  Knights  of  Malta, 
because  those  fools  believed  it  to  be  God's  will  to  war 
against  Moslems?"  The  French  soldiers  were  vastly 
amused  by  the  humour  of  these  proceedings,  and  the 
liberated  people  fully  appreciated  the  menaces  with  which 
Bonaparte's  proclamation  closed,  backed  up  as  these  were 
by  irresistible  force.  ^ 

After  arranging  affairs  at  Alexandria,  where  the  gallant 
Kleber  was  left  in  command,  Bonaparte  ordered  an 
advance  into  the  interior.  Never,  perhaps,  did  he  show 
the  value  of  swift  offensive  action  more  decisively  than  in 
this  prompt  march  on  Damanhour  across  the  desert.  The 
other  route  by  way  of  Rosetta  would  have  been  easier  ; 
but,  as  it  was  longer,  he  rejected  it,  and  told  off  Greneral 
Menou  to  capture  that  city  and  support  a  flotilla  of  boats 

1  The  Arab  accounts  of  these  events,  drawn  up  by  Nakoula  and 
Abdurrahman,  are  of  much  interest.  They  have  been  well  used  by 
M.  Dufourcq,  editor  of  Desvemois*  ^*  Memoirs,"  for  many  suggestive 
footnotes. 


vm  BQYPT  173 

which  was  to  ascend  the  Nile  and  meet  the  army  on  its  march 
to  Cairo.  On  July  4th  the  first  division  of  the  main  force 
set  forth  by  night  into  the  desert  south  of  Alexandria. 
All  was  new  and  terrible  ;  and,  when  the  rays  of  the  sun 
smote  on  their  weary  backs,  the  murmurings  of  the  troops 

?rew  loud.  This,  then,  was  the  land,  "  more  fertile  than 
rombardy,"  which  was  the  goal  of  their  wanderings. 
'*See,  there  are  the  six  acres  of  land  which  you  are 
promised,"  exclaimed  a  waggish  soldier  to  his  comrade 
as  they  first  gazed  from  ship-board  on  the  desert  east  of 
Alexandria  ;  and  all  the  sense  of  discipline  failed  to  keep 
this  and  other  gibes  from  the  ears  of  staff  officers  even 
before  they  reached  that  city.  Far  worae  was  their  posi- 
tion now  in  the  shifting  sand  of  the  desert,  beset  by  hover- 
ing Bedouins,  stung  bv  scorpions,  and  afflicted  by  intoler- 
able thirst.  The  Arabs  had  filled  the  scanty  wells  with 
stones,  and  only  after  long  toil  could  the  sappers  reach 
the  precious  fluid  beneath.  Then  the  troops  rushed  and 
fought  for  the  privilege  of  drinking  a  few  drops  of  muddy 
liquor.  Thus  they  struggled  on,  the  succeeding  divisions 
faring  worst  of  all.  Berthier,  chief  of  the  staff,  relates 
that  a  glass  of  water  sold  for  its  weight  in  gold.  Even 
brave  officers  abandoned  themselves  to  transports  of  rage 
and  despair  which  left  them  completely  prostrate.^ 

But  Bonaparte  flinched  not.  His  stern  composure  offered 
the  best  rebuke  to  such  childish  sallies ;  and  when  out  of 
a  murmuring  group  there  came  the  bold  remark,  "  Well, 
General,  are  you  going  to  take  us  to  India  thus,"  he  abashed 
the  speaker  and  his  comrades  by  the  quick  retort,  ^^  No, 
I  would  not  undertake  that  with  such  soldiers  as  you." 
French  honour,  touched  to  the  quick,  reasserted  itself  even 
above  the  torments  of  thirst ;  and  the  troops  themselves, 
when  they  tardily  reached  the  Nile  and  slacked  their  2 
thirst  in  its  waters,  recognized  the  pre-eminence  of  his  will 
and  his  profound  confidence  in  their  endurance.  French 
gaiety  had  not  been  wholly  eclipsed  even  by  the  miseries 
of  the  desert  march.  To  cheer  their  drooping  spirits  the 
commander  had  sent  some  of  the  staunchest  generals  along 
the  line  of  march.     Among  them  was  the  gifted  Caffarelli, 

1  Desgenettes,  **  Histoire  mMicale  de  PArmte  d^Orient  '*  (Paris,  1802); 
Belliard,  '' Mdmoires,''  vol.  L 


174  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

who  had  lost  a  leg  in  the  Rhenish  campaign  ;  his  reassur- 
ing words  called  forth  the  inimitable  retort  from  the  ranks  : 
"  Ah  1  he  don't  care,  not  he :  he  has  one  leg  in  France." 
Scarcely  less  witty  was  the  soldier's  description  of  the 
prowling  Bedouins,  who  cut  off  stragglers  and  plunderers, 
as  "  The  mounted  highway  police." 

After  brushing  aside  a  charge  of  800  Mamelukes  at 
Chebreiss,  the  army  made  its  way  up  the  banks  of  the  Nile 
to  Embabeh,  opposite  Cairo.  There  the  Mamelukes,  led 
by  Ibrahim  and  Murad,  had  their  fortified  camp;  and 
there  that  superb  cavalry  prepared  to  overwhelm  the  in- 
vaders in  a  whirlwind  rush  of  horse  (July  21st,  1798). 
The  occasion  and  the  surroundings  were  such  as  to  inspire 
both  sides  with  desperate  resolution.  It  was  the  first 
fierce  shock  on  land  of  eastern  chivalry  and  western  enter- 
prise since  the  days  of  St.  Louis ;  and  the  ardour  of  the 
republicans  was  scarcely  less  than  that  which  had  kindled 
the  soldiers  of  the  cross.  Beside  the  two  armies  rolled  the 
mysterious  Nile ;  beyond  glittered  the  slender  minarets  of 
Cairo ;  and  on  the  south  there  loomed  the  massy  Pyramids. 
To  the  forty  centuries  that  had  rolled  over  them,  Bona- 
parte now  appealed,  in  one  of  those  imaginative  touches 
which  ever  brace  the  French  nature  to  the  utmost  tension 
of  daring  and  endurance.  Thus  they  advanced  in  close 
formation  towards  the  intrenched  camp  of  the  Mamelukes. 
The  divisions  on  the  left  at  once  rushed  at  its  earthworks, 
silenced  its  feeble  artillery,  and  slaughtered  the  fellahin 
inside. 

But  the  other  divisions,  now  ranged  in  squares,  while 
gazing  at  this  exploit,  were  assailed  by  the  Mamelukes. 
From  out  the  haze  of  the  mirage,  or  from  behind  the 
ridges  of  sand  and  the  scrub  of  the  water-melon  plants 
that  dotted  the  plain,  some  10,000  of  these  superb  horse- 
men suddenly  appeared  and  rushed  at  the  squares  com- 
manded by  Desaix  and  Reynier.  Their  richly  caparisoned 
chargers,  their  waving  plumes,  their  wild  battle-cries,  and 
their  marvellous  skill  with  carbine  and  sword,  lent  pictu- 
resqueness  and  terror  to  the  charge.  Musketry  and  grape- 
shot  mowed  down  their  front  coursers  in  ghastly  swaths ; 
but  the  living  mass  swept  on,  wellnigh  overwhelming  the 
fronts  of  the  squares,  and  then,  swerving  aside,  poured 


vm  EGYPT  175 

through  the  deadly  funnel  between.  Decimated  here 
also  by  the  steady  fire  of  the  French  files,  and  by  the  dis- 
charges of  the  rear  face,  they  fell  away  exhausted,  leaving 
heaps  of  dead  and  dying  on  the  fronts  of  the  squares,  and 
in  their  very  midst  a  score  of  their  choicest  cavaliers, 
whose  bravery  and  horsemanship  had  carried  them  to  cer- 
tain death  amidst  the  bayonets.  The  French  now  assumed 
the  offensive,  and  Desaix's  division,  threatening  to  cut  off 
the  retreat  of  Murad's  horsemen,  led  that  wary  chief  to 
draw  off  his  shattered  squadrons  ;  while  his  rival  Ibrahim 
sought  safety  in  flight  towards  Cairo  and  the  isthmus  of 
Suez,  but  with  ranks  frightfully  thinned  by  the  French 
fire  and  the  waters  of  the  Nile.  Such  was  the  battle  of 
the  Pyramids,  which  gained  a  colony  at  the  cost  of  some 
thirty  killed  and  about  ten  times  as  many  wounded  :  of 
the  killed  about  twenty  fell  victims  to  the  cross  fire  of  the 
two  squares.^ 

After  halting  for  a  fortnight  at  Cairo  to  recruit  his 
weary  troops  and  to  arrange  the  affairs  of  his  conquest, 
Bonaparte  marched  eastwards  in  pursuit  of  Ibrahim  and 
drove  him  into  Syria,  while  Desaix  waged  an  arduous  but 
successful  campaign  against  Murad  in  Upper  Egypt.  But 
the  victors  were  soon  to  learn  the  uselessness  of  merely 
military  triumphs  in  Egypt.  As  Bonaparte  returned  to 
complete  the  organization  of  the  new  colony,  he  heard 
that  Nelson  had  destroyed  his  fleet. 

On  July  3rd,  before  setting  out  from  Alexandria,  the 
French  commander  gave  an  order  to  his  admiral,  the  chief 
sentences  of  which  were  as  follows  : 

<*  The  admiral  will  to-morrow  acquaint  the  commander-in-chief  by 
a  report  whether  the  squadron  can  enter  the  port  of  Alexandria,  or 
whether,  in  Aboukir  Koads,  bringing  its  broadside  to  bear,  it  can 
defend  itself  against  the  enemy's  superior  force ;  and  in  case  both 
these  plans  should  be  impracticable,  he  must  sail  for  Corfu  .  .  .  leav- 
ing the  light  ships  and  the  flotilla  at  Alexandria." 

Brueys  speedily  discovered  that  the  first  plan  was  beset 
by  grave  dangers  :  the  entrance  to  the  harbour  of  Alex- 
andria, when  sounded,  proved  to  be  most  difficult  for  large 

^I  have  followed  chiefly  the  account  of  Savary,  Due  de  Rovigo, 
**  Mems.^*  ch.  iv.    See  too  Desvernois,  *^  Mems.,'*  ch.  iv. 


176  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chaf. 

ships  —  such  was  his  judgment  and  that  of  Villeneuve 
and  Casabianca —  and  the  exit  could  be  blocked  by  a  sin- 
gle English  battleship.  As  regards  the  alternatives  of 
Aboukir  or  Corfu,  Brueys  went  on  to  state  :  "  My  firm 
desire  is  to  be  useful  to  you  in  every  possible  way  :  and,  as 
I  have  already  said,  every  post  will  suit  me  well,  provided 
that  you  placed  me  there  in  an  active  way."  By  this 
rather  ambiguous  phrase  it  would  seem  that  he  scouted 
the  alternative  of  Corfu  as  consigning  him  to  a  degrading 
inactivity  ;  while  at  Aboukir  he  held  that  he  could  be 
actively  useful  in  protecting  the  rear  of  the  army.  In 
that  bay  he  therefore  anchored  his  largest  ships,  trusting 
that  the  dangers  of  the  approach  would  screen  him  from 
any  sudden  attack,  but  making  also  special  preparations 
in  case  he  should  be  compelled  to  fight  at  anchor.^  His 
decision  was  probably  less  sound  than  that  of  Bonaparte, 
who,  while  marching  to  Cairo,  and  again  during  his 
sojourn  there,  ordered  him  to  make  for  Corfu  or  Toulon  ; 
for  the  general  saw  clearly  that  the  French  fleet,  riding  in 
safety  in  those  well-protected  roadsteads,  would  really 
dominate  the  Mediterranean  better  than  in  the  open 
expanse  of  Aboukir.  But  these  orders  did  not  reach  the 
admiral  before  the  blow  fell ;  and  it  is,  after  all,  somewhat 
ungenerous  to  censure  Brueys  for  his  decision  to  remain 
at  Aboukir  and  risk  a  fight  rather  than  comply  with  the 
dictates  of  a  prudent  but  inglorious  strategy. 

The  British  admiral,  after  sweeping  the  eastern  Medi- 
terranean, at  last  found  the  French  fleet  in  Aboukir  Bay, 
about  ten  miles  from  the  Rosetta  mouth  of  the  Nile.  It 
was  anchored  under  the  lee  of  a  shoal  which  would  have 
prevented  any  ordinary  admiral  from  attacking,  especially 
at  sundown.  But  Nelson,  knowing  that  the  head  ship  of 
the  French  was  free  to  swing  at  anchor,  rightly  con- 
cluded that  there  must  be  room  for  British  ships  to  sail 

• 
^See  his  orders  published  in  the  *'  Correspon dance  officielle  et  confid. 
de  Nap.  Bonaparte,  Egypte,"  vol.  i.  (Paris,  1819,  p.  270).  They  rebut 
Captain  Mahan's  statement  (**  Influence  of  Sea  Power  upon  the  Fr.  Rev. 
and  Emp.,"  vol.  i.,  p.  263)  as  to  Brueys'  **  delusion  and  lethargy  "  at 
Aboukir.  On  the  contrary,  though  enfeebled  by  dysentery  and  worried 
by  lack  of  provisions  and  the  insubordination  of  his  marines,  he  certainly 
did  what  he  could  under  the  circumstAnces.  See  his  letters  in  the  Appen- 
dix of  Jurien  de  la  Gravi^re,  **  Guerres  Marltlmes,"  vol.  i. 


nil  EGYPT  177 

between  Brueys'  stationary  line  and  the  shallows.  The 
British  captains  thrust  five  ships  between  the  French  and 
the  shoal,  while  the  others,  passing  down  the  enemy's 
line  on  the  seaward  side,  crushed  it  in  detail ;  and,  after 
a  night  of  carnage,  the  light  of  August  2nd  dawned  on  a 
scene  of  destruction  unsurpassed  in  naval  warfare.  Two 
French  ships  of  the  line  and  two  frigates  alone  escaped : 
one,  the  gigantic  **  Orient/'  had  blown  up  with  the  spoils 
of  Malta  on  board  :  the  rest,  eleven  in  number,  were 
captured  or  burnt. 

To  Bonaparte  this  disaster  came  as  a  bolt  from  the 
blue.  Only  two  days  before,  he  had  written  from  Cairo 
to  Brueys  that  all  the  conduct  of  the  English  made  him 
believe  them  to  be  inferior  in  numbers  and  fully  satisfied 
with  blockading  Malta.  Yet,  in  order  to  restore  the 
morale  of  his  army,  utterly  depressed  by  this  disaster, 
he  affected  a  confidence  which  he  could  no  longer  feel, 
and  said :  ^^  Well  I  here  we  must  remain  or  achieve  a 
grandeur  like  that  of  the  ancients."^  He  had  recently 
assured  his  intimates  that  after  routing  the  Beys'  forces 
he  would  return  to  France  and  strike  a  blow  direct  at 
England.  Whatever  he  may  have  designed,  he  was  now 
a  prisoner  in  his  conquest.  His  men,  even  some  of  his 
highest  officers,  as  Berthier,  Bessidres,  Lannes,  Murat, 
Dumas,  and  others,  bitterly  complained  of  their  miser- 
able position.  But  the  commander,  whose  spirits  rose 
with  adversity,  took  effective  means  for  repressing  such 
discontent.  To  the  last-named,  a  powerful  mulatto,  he 
exclaimed  :  ^^  You  have  held  seditious  parleys  :  take  care 
that  I  do  not  perform  my  duty  :  your  six  feet  of  stature 
shall  not  save  you  from  being  shot "  :  and  he  offered 
passports  for  France  to  a  few  of  the  most  discontented 
and  useless  officers,  well  knowing  that  after  Nelson's 
victory  they  could  scarcely  be  used.  Others,  again,  out- 
Heroding  Herod^  suggested  that  the  frigates  and  trans- 
ports at  Alexandria  should  be  taken  to  pieces  and 
conveyed  on  camels'  backs  to  Suez,  there  to  be  used  for 
the  invasion  of  India.^ 

The  versatility  of  Bonaparte's  genius  was  never  more 
marked  than  at  this  time  of  discouragement.      While 

1  Devernois,  **Mems./'  ch.  v.  «  lb.,  ch.  yi 

N 


178  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

his  enemies  figured  him  and  his  exhausted  troops  as 
vainly  seeking  to  escape  from  those  arid  wastes ;  while 
Nelson  was  landing  the  French  prisoners  in  order  to 
increase  his  embarrassment  about  food,  Bonaparte  and 
his  savants  were  developing  constructive  powers  of  the 
highest  order,  which  made  the  army  independent  of 
Europe.  It  was  a  vast  undertaking.  Deprived  of  most 
of  their  treasure  and  many  of  their  mechanical  appliances 
by  the  loss  of  the  fleet,  the  savants  and  engineers  had,  as 
it  were,  to  start  from  the  beginning.  Some  strove  to 
meet  the  difficulties  of  food-supply  by  extending  the 
cultivation  of  corn  and  rice,  or  by  the  construction  of 
large  ovens  and  bakeries,  or  of  windmills  for  grinding 
corn.  Others  planted  vineyards  for  the  future,  or  sought 
to  appease  the  ceaseless  thirst  of  the  soldiery  by  the  manu- 
facture of  a  kind  of  native  beer.  Foundries  and  work- 
shops began,  though  slowly,  to  supply  tools  and  machines  ; 
the  earth  was  rifled  of  her  treasures,  natron  was  wrought, 
saltpetre  works  were  established,  and  gunpowder  was 
thereby  procured  for  the  army  with  an  energy  which 
recalled  the  prodigies  of  activity  of  1793. 

With  his  usual  ardour  in  the  cause  of  learning,  Bona- 
parte several  times  a  week  appeared  in  the  chemical 
laboratory,  or  witnessed  the  experiments  performed  by 
BerthoUet  and  Monge.  Desirous  of  giving  cohesion  to 
the  efforts  of  his  savants^  and  of  honouring  not  only  the 
useful  arts  but  abstruse  research,  he  united  these  pioneers 
of  science  in  a  society  termed  the  Institute  of  Egypt.  On 
Au^st  21st,  1798,  it  was  installed  with  much  ceremony 
in  the  palace  of  one  of  the  Beys,  Monge  being  president 
and  Bonaparte  vice-president.  The  general  also  enrolled 
himself  in  the  mathematical  section  of  the  institute.  In- 
deed, he  sought  by  all  possible  means  to  aid  the  labours 
of  the  savantSy  whose  dissertations  were  now  heard  in  the 
large  hall  of  the  harem  that  formerly  resounded  only  to 
the  twanging  of  lutes,  weary  jests,  and  idle  laughter. 
The  labours  of  the  savants  were  not  confined  to  Cairo  and 
the  Delta.  As  soon  as  the  victories  of  Desaix  in  Upper 
Egypt  opened  the  middle  reaches  of  the  Nile  to  peaceful 
research,  the  treasures  of  Memphis  were  revealed  to  the 
astonished  gaze  of  western  learning.     Many  of  the  more 


▼Ill  EGYPT  179 

portable  relics  were  transferred  to  Cairo,  and  thence  to 
Kosetta  or  Alexandria,  in  order  to  grace  the  museums  of 
Paris.  The  savants  proposed,  but  seapower  disposed,  of 
these  treasures.  They  are  now,  with  few  exceptions,  in 
the  British  Museum. 

Apart  from  archaeology,  much  was  done  to  extend  the 
bounds  of  learning.  Astronomy  gained  much  by  the 
observations  of  General  Caffarelli.  A  series  of  measure- 
ments was  begun  for  an  exact  survey  of  Egypt :  the  ge- 
ologists and  engineers  examined  the  course  of  the  Nile, 
recorded  the  progress  of  alluvial  deposits  at  its  mouth  or 
on  its  banks,  and  therefrom  calculated  the  antiquity  of 
divers  parts  of  the  Delta.  No  part  of  the  great  con- 
queror's career  so  aptly  illustrates  the  truth  of  his  noble 
words  to  the  magistrates  of  the  Ligurian  Republic  :  "  The 
true  conquests,  the  only  conquests  which  cost  no  regrets, 
are  those  achieved  over  ignorance." 

Such,  in  brief  outline,  is  the  story  of  the  renascence  in 
Egypt.  The  mother-land  of  science  and  learning,  after  a 
wellnigh  barren  interval  of  1,100  years  since  the  Arab 
conquest,  was  now  developed  and  illumined  by  the  appli- 
cation of  the  arts  with  which  in  the  dim  past  she  had 
enriched  the  life  of  barbarous  Europe.  The  repayment 
of  this  incalculable  debt  was  due  primarily  to  the  enter- 
prise of  Bonaparte.  It  is  one  of  his  many  titles  to  fame 
and  to  the  homage  of  posterity.  How  poor  by  the  side  of 
this  encyclopaedic  genius  are  the  gifts  even  of  his  most 
brilliant  foes  !  At  that  same  time  the  Archduke  Charles 
of  Austria  was  vegetating  in  inglorious  ease  on  his  estates. 
As  for  Beaulieu  and  Wiirmser,  they  had  subsided  into 
their  native  obscurity.  Nelson,  after  his  recent  triumph, 
persuading  himself  that  "  Bonaparte  had  gone  to  the  devil," 
was  bending  before  the  whims  of  a  professional  beauty  and 
the  odious  despotism  of  the  worst  Court  in  Europe.  While 
the  admiral  tarnished  his  fame  on  the  Syren  coast  of 
Naples,  his  great  opponent  bent  all  the  resources  of  a  fer- 
tile intellect  to  retrieve  his  position,  and  even  under  the 
gloom  of  disaster  threw  a  gleam  of  light  into  the  dark 
continent.  While  his  adversaries  were  merely  generals 
or  admirals,  hampered  by  a  stupid  education  and  a  narrow 
nationality,  Bonaparte  had  eagerly  imbibed  the  new  learn- 


180  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  CHiiP. 

ing  of  his  age  and  saw  its  possible  influence  on  the  reor- 
ganization of  society.  He  is  not  merely  a  general.  Even 
when  he  is  scattering  to  the  winds  the  proud  chivalry  of 
the  East,  and  is  prescribing  to  Brueys  his  safest  course 
of  action,  he  finds  time  vastly  to  expand  the  horizon  of 
human  knowledge. 

Nor  did  he  neglect  Egyptian  politics.  He  used  a  native 
council  for  consultation  and  for  the  promulgation  of  his 
own  ideas.  Immediately  after  his  entry  into  Cairo  he  ap- 
pointed nine  sheikhs  to  form  a  divan,  or  council,  consult- 
ing daily  on  public  order  and  the  food-supplies  of  the  city. 
He  next  assembled  a  general  divan  for  Egypt,  and  a  smaller 
council  for  each  province,  and  asked  their  advice  concern- 
ing the  administration  of  justice  and  the  collection  of  taxes.^ 
In  its  use  of  oriental  terminology,  this  scheme  was  undeni- 
ably clever ;  but  neither  French,  Arabs,  nor  Turks  were 
deceived  as  to  the  real  government,  which  resided  entirely 
in  Bonaparte ;  and  his  skill  in  reapportioning  the  imposts 
had  some  effect  on  the  prosperity  of  the  land,  enabling  it 
to  bear  the  drain  of  his  constant  requisitions.  The  welfare 
of  the  new  colony  was  also  promoted  by  the  foundation  of 
a  mint  and  of  an  Egyptian  Commercial  Company. 

His  inventive  genius  was  by  no  means  exhausted  by  these 
varied  toils.  On  his  journey  to  Suez  he  met  a  camel  cara- 
van in  the  desert,  and  noticing  the  speed  of  the  animals,  lie 
determined  to  form  a  camel  corps  ;  and  in  the  first  month 
of  1799  the  experiment  was  made  with  such  success  that 
admission  into  the  ranks  of  the  camelry  came  to  be  viewed 
as  a  favour.  Each  animal  carried  two  men  with  their  arms 
and  baggage  :  the  uniform  was  sky-blue  with  a  white  tur- 
ban ;  and  the  speed  and  precision  of  their  movements  en- 
abled them  to  deal  terrible  blows,  even  at  distant  tribes  of 
Bedouins,  who  bent  before  a  genius  that  could  outwit  them 
even  in  their  own  deserts. 

The  pleasures  of  his  officers  and  men  were  also  met  by 
the  opening  of  the  Tivoli  Gardens  ;  and  there,  in  sight  of 
the  Pyramids,  the  life  of  the  Palais  Royal  took  root :  the 
glasses  clinked,  the  dice  rattled,  and  heads  reeled  to  the 
lascivious  movements  of  the  eastern  dance  ;  and  Bonaparte 
himself  indulged  a  passing  passion  for  the  wife  of  one  of 

1  Order  of  July  27th,  1798. 


vin  EGYPT  181 

his  officers,  with  an  openness  that  brought  on  him  a  rebuke 
from  his  stepson,  Eugene  Beauharnais.  But  already  he 
had  been  rendered  desperate  by  reports  of  the  unfaithful- 
ness of  Josephine  at  Paris ;  the  news  wrung  from  him  this 
pathetic  letter  to  his  brother  Joseph  —  the  death-cry  of  his 
long  drooping  idealism  : 

"  I  have  much  to  worry  me  privately,  for  the  veil  is  entirely  torn 
aside.  You  alone  remain  to  me ;  your  affection  is  very  dear  to  me : 
nothing  more  remains  to  make  me  a  misanthrope  than  to  lose  her  and 
see  you  betra;^  me.  .  .  .  Buy  a  country  seat  against  my  return,  either 
near  Paris  or  in  Burgundy.  I  need  solitude  and  isolation :  grandeur 
wearies  me :  the  fount  of  feeline  is  dried  up :  glory  itself  is  insipid. 
At  twenty-nine  years  of  age  I  have  exhausted  everything.  It  only 
remainB  to  me  to  become  a  thorough  egoist."  ^ 

Many  rumours  were  circulated  as  to  Bonaparte's  public 
appearance  in  oriental  costume  and  his  presence  at  a  reli- 
gious service  in  a  mosque.  It  is  even  stated  by  Thiers  that 
at  one  of  the  chief  festivals  he  repaired  to  the  great  mosque, 
repeated  the  prayers  like  a  true  Moslem,  crossing  his  legs 
and  swaying  his  body  to  and  fro,  so  that  he  ^^  edified  the 
believers  by  his  orthodox  piety."  But  the  whole  incident, 
however  attractive  scenically  and  in  point  of  humour,  seems 
to  be  no  better  authenticated  than  the  religious  results 
about  which  the  historian  cherished  so  hopeful  a  belief. 
The  truth  seems  to  be  that  the  general  went  to  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  birth  of  the  Prophet  as  an  interested  spectator, 
at  the  house  of  the  sheikh,  £1  Bekri.  Some  hundred  sheikhs 
were  there  present :  they  swayed  their  bodies  to  and  fro 
while  the  story  of  Mahomet's  life  was  recited  ;  and  Bona- 
parte afterwards  partook  of  an  oriental  repast.  But  he 
never  forgot  his  dignity  so  far  as  publicly  to  appear  in  a 
turban  and  loose  trousers,  which  he  donned  only  once  for 
the  amusement  of  his  staff.^  That  he  endeavoured  to  pose 
as  a  Moslem  is  beyond  doubt.  Witness  his  endeavour  to 
convince  the  imams  at  Cairo  of  his  desire  to  conform  to 
their  faith.  If  we  may  believe  that  dubious  compilation, 
"  A  Voice  from  St.  Helena,"  he  bade  them  consult  together 
as  to  the  possibility  of  admission  of  men,  who  were  not  cir- 

1  Bucasse,  "  Les  Rois,  Frftres  de  Napoleon,"  p.  8. 
« **M^moire8  de  Napoleon,"  vol.  ii. ;  Bourrienne,  "Mems.,"  vol.  i., 
eh.  xvii. 


182  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

cumcised  and  did  not  abstain  from  wine,  into  the  true  fold. 
As  to  the  latter  disability,  he  stated  that  the  French  were 
poor  cold  people,  inhabitants  of  the  north,  who  could  not 
exist  without  wine.  For  a  long  time  the  imams  demurred 
to  this  plea,  which  involved  greater  difficulties  than  the 
question  of  circumcision :  but  after  long  consultations  they 
decided  that  both  objections  might  be  waived  in  considera- 
tion of  a  superabundance  of  good  works.  The  reply  was 
prompted  by  an  irony  no  less  subtle  than  that  which  accom- 
panied the  claim,  and  neither  side  was  deceived  in  this 
contest  of  wits. 

A  rude  awakening  soon  came.  For  some  few  days  there 
had  been  rumours  that  the  division  under  Desaix  which  was 
fighting  the  Mamelukes  in  Upper  Egypt  had  been  engulfed 
in  those  sandy  wastes  ;  and  this  report  fanned  to  a  flame 
the  latent  hostility  against  the  unbelievers.  From  many 
minarets  of  Cairo  a  summons  to  arms  took  the  place  of  the 
customary  call  to  prayer  :  and  on  October  21st  the  French 
garrison  was  so  fiercely  and  suddenly  attacked  as  to  leave 
the  issue  doubtful.  Discipline  and  grapeshot  finally  pre- 
vailed, whereupon  a  repression  of  oriental  ferocity  cowed  the 
spirits  of  the  townsfolk  and  of  the  neighbouring  country. 
Forts  were  constructed  in  Cairo  and  at  all  the  strategic 
points  along  the  lower  Nile,  and  Egypt  seemed  to  be 
conquered. 

Feeling  sure  now  of  his  hold  on  the  populace,  Bonaparte, 
at  the  close  of  the  year,  undertook  a  journey  to  Suez  and 
the  Sinaitic  peninsula.  It  offered  that  combination  of 
utility  and  romance  which  ever  appealed  to  him.  At  Suez 
he  sought  to  revivify  commerce  by  lightening  the  customs' 
dues,  by  founding  a  branch  of  his  Egyptian  commercial 
company,  and  by  graciously  receiving  a  deputation  of  the 
Arabs  of  Tor  who  came  to  sue  for  his  friendship.^  Then, 
journeying  on,  he  visited  the  fountains  of  Moses ;  but  it  is 
not  true  that  (as  stated  by  Lanfrey)  he  proceeded  to 
Mount  Sinai  and  signed  his  name  in  the  register  of  the 
monastery  side  by  side  with  that  of  Mahomet.  On  his 
return  to  the  isthmus  he  is  said  to  have  narrowly  escaped 
from  the  rising  tide  of  the  Red  Sea.  If  we  may  credit 
Savary,  who  was  not  of  the  party,  its  safety  was  due  to 

1  <«  Mdms.  de  Berthier." 


VIII  EGYPT  183 

the  address  of  the  commander,  who,  as  darkness  fell  on  the 
bewildered  band,  arranged  his  horsemen  in  files,  until  the 
higher  causeway  of  the  path  was  again  discovered.  North 
of  Suez  the  traces  of  the  canal  dug  by  Sesostris  revealed 
themselves  to  the  trained  eye  of  the  commander.  The 
observations  of  his  engineers  confirmed  his  conjecture, 
but  the  vast  labour  of  reconstruction  forbade  any  attempt 
to  construct  a  maritime  canal.  On  his  return  to  Cairo  he 
wrote  to  the  Imam  of  Muscat,  assuring  him  of  his  friend- 
ship and  begging  him  to  forward  to  Tippoo  Sahib  a  letter 
offering  alliance  and  deliverance  from  "  the  iron  yoke  of 
England,"  and  stating  that  the  French  had  arrived  on  the 
shores  of  the  Red  Sea  ^^  with  a  numerous  and  invincible 
army."  The  letter  was  intercepted  by  a  British  cruiser  ; 
and  the  alarm  caused  by  these  vast  designs  only  served 
to  spur  on  our  forces  to  efforts  which  cost  Tippoo  his  life 
and  the  French  most  of  their  Indian  settlements. 


CHAPTER  IX 

SYRIA 

Mbanwhilb  Turkey  had  declared  war  on  France,  and 
was  sending  an  army  through  Syria  for  the  recovery  of 
Egypt,  while  another  expedition  was  assembling  at  Rhodes. 
Like  all  great  captains,  Bonaparte  was  never  content  with 
the  defensive :  his  convictions  and  his  pugnacious  instincts 
alike  urged  him  to  give  rather  than  to  receive  the  blow ; 
and  he  argued  that  he  could  attack  and  destroy  the  Syrian 
force  before  the  cessation  of  the  winter's  gales  would 
allow  the  other  Turkish  expedition  to  attempt  a  disem- 
barkation at  Aboukir.  If  he  waited  in  Egypt,  he  might 
have  to  meet  the  two  attacks  at  once,  whereas,  if  he  struck 
at  Jaffa  and  Acre,  he  would  rid  himself  of  the  chief  mass  of 
his  foes.  Besides,  as  he  explained  in  his  letter  of  Febru- 
ary 10th,  1799,  to  the  Directors,  his  seizure  of  those  towns 
would  rob  the  English  fleet  of  its  base  of  supplies  and 
thereby  cripple  its  activities  off  the  coast  of  Egypt.  So 
far,  his  reasons  for  the  Syrian  campaign  are  intelligible 
and  sound.  But  he  also  gave  out  that,  leaving  Desaix 
and  his  Ethiopian  supernumeraries  to  defend  Egypt,  he 
himself  would  accomplish  the  conquest  of  Syria  and  the 
East :  he  would  raise  in  revolt  the  Christians  of  the  Leba- 
non and  Armenia,  overthrow  the  Turkish  power  in  Asia, 
and  then  march  either  on  Constantinople  or  Delhi. 

It  is  difficult  to  take  this  quite  seriously,  considering 
that  he  had  only  12,000  men  available  for  these  adven- 
tures; and  with  anyone  but  Bonaparte  they  might  be 
dismissed  as  utterly  Quixotic.  But  in  his  case  we  must 
seek  for  some  practical  purpose ;  for  he  never  divorced 
fancy  from  fact,  and  in  his  best  days  imagination  was  the 
handmaid  of  politics  and  strategy  rather  than  the  mis- 
tress. Probably  these  gorgeous  visions  were  bodied  forth 
so  as  to  inspirit  the  soldiery  and  enthrall  the  imagination 
of  France.  He  had  already  proved  the  immense  power 
of  imagination  over  that  susceptible  people.    In  one  sense, 

184 


CHAP,  iz  SYRIA  186 

his  whole  expedition  was  but  a  picturesque  drama ;  and 
an  imposing  climax  could  now  be  found  in  the  plan  of  an 
Eastern  Empire,  that  opened  up  dazzling  vistas  of  glory  and 
veiled  his  figure  in  a  grandiose  mirage,  beside  which  the 
civilian  Directors  were  dwarfed  into  ridiculous  puppets. 

If  these  vast  schemes  are  to  be  taken  seriously,  another 
explanation  of  them  is  possible,  namely,  that  he  relied  on 
the  example  set  by  Alexander  the  Great,  who  with  a 
small  but  highly-trained  army  had  shattered  the  stately 
dominions  of  the  East.  If  Bonaparte  trusted  to  this  prece- 
dent, he  erred.  •True,  Alexander  began  his  enterprise 
with  a  comparatively  small  force :  but  at  least  he  had  a 
sure  base  of  operations,  and  his  army  in  Thessaly  was 
strong  enough  to  prevent  Athens  from  exchanging  her 
sullen  but  passive  hostility  for  an  offensive  that  would 
endanger  his  communications  by  sea.  The  Athenian  fleet 
was  therefore  never  the  danger  to  the  Macedonians  that 
Nelson  and  Sir  Sidney  Smith  were  to  Bonaparte.  Since 
the  French  armada  weighed  anchor  at  Toulon,  Britain's 
position  had  became  vasUy  stronger.  Nelson  was  lord  of 
the  Mediterranean :  the  revolt  in  Ireland  had  completely 
failed  :  a  coalition  against  France  was  being  formed  ;  and 
it  was  therefore  certain  that  the  force  in  Egypt  could  not 
be  materially  strengthened.  Bonaparte  did  not  as  yet 
know  the  full  extent  of  his  country's  danger;  but  the 
mere  fact  that  he  would  have  to  bear  the  pressure  of  Eng- 
land's naval  supremacy  along  the  Syrian  coast  should  have 
dispelled  any  notion  that  he  could  rival  the  exploits  of 
Alexander  and  become  Emperor  of  the  East.^ 

1  On  November  4th,  1798,  the  French  Government  forwarded  to  Bonar 
parte,  in  triplicate  copies,  a  despatch  which,  after  setting  forth  the  failure 
of  their  designs  on  Ireland,  nrged  him  either  (1)  to  remain  in  Egypt,  of 
which  they  evidently  disapproved,  or  (2)  to  march  towards  India  and 
co-operate  with  Tippoo  Sahib,  or  (3)  to  advance  on  Constantinople  in 
order  that  France  might  have  a  share  in  the  partition  of  Turkey,  which 
was  then  being  discussed  between  the  Courts  of  Petersburg  and  Vienna. 
No  copy  of  this  despatch  seems  to  have  reached  Bonaparte  before  he  set 
out  for  Syria  ^February  6th).  This  curious  and  perhaps  guileful  despatch 
is  given  in  full  by  Boiday  de  la  Meurthe,  **  Le  Directoire  et  P  Expedition 
d^Egypte,*'  Appendix,  No.  6. 

On  the  whole,  I  am  compelled  to  dissent  from  Captain  Mahan  (**  Influ- 
ence of  Sea  Power,"  vol.  i.,  pp.  324-826),  and  to  regard  the  larger  schemes 
of  Bonaparte  in  this  Syrian  enterprise  as  visionary. 


186  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  cbap. 

From  conjectures  about  motives  we  turn  to  facts.  Set- 
ting forth  early  in  February,  the  French  captured  most  of 
the  Turkish  advanced  guard  at  the  fort  of  El  Arisch,  but 
sent  their  captives  away  on  condition  of  not  bearing  arms 
against  France  for  at  least  one  year.  The  victors  then 
marched  on  Jaffa,  and,  in  spite  of  a  spirited  defence,  took 
it  by  storm  (March  6th).  Flushed  with  their  triumph 
over  a  cruel  and  detested  foe,  the  soldiers  were  giving  up 
the  city  to  pillage  and  massacre,  when  two  aides-de-camp 
promised  quarter  to  a  large  body  of  the  defenders,  who 
had  sought  refuge  in  a  large  caravanserai ;  and  their  lives 
were  grudgingly  spared  by  the  victors.  Bonaparte  vehe- 
mently reproached  his  aides-de-camp  for  their  ill-timed 
clemency.  What  could  he  now  do  with  these  2,500  or 
8,000  prisoners  ?  They  could  not  be  trusted  to  serve  with 
the  French ;  besides,  the  provisions  scarcely  sufficed  for 
Bonaparte's  own  men,  who  began  to  complain  loudly  at 
sharing  any  with  Turks  and  Albanians.  They  could  not 
be  sent  away  to  Egypt,  there  to  spread  discontent :  and 
only  300  Egyptians  were  so  sent  away.^  Finally,  on  the 
demand  of  his  generals  and  troops,  the  remaining  prisoners 
were  shot  down  on  the  seashore.  There  is,  however,  no 
warrant  for  the  malicious  assertion  that  Bonaparte  readily 
gave  the  fatal  order.  On  the  contrary,  he  delayed  it  for 
three  days,  until  the  growing  difficulties  and  the  loud  com- 
plaints of  his  soldiers  wrung  it  from  him  as  a  last  resort. 

Moreover,  several  of  the  victims  had  already  fought 
against  him  at  £1  Arisch,  and  had  violated  their  promise 
that  they  would  fight  no  more  against  the  French  in  that 
campaign.  M.  Lanirey's  assertion  that  there  is  no  evidence 
for  the  identification  is  untenable,  in  view  of  a  document 
which  I  have  discovered  in  the  Records  of  the  British 
Admiralty.  Inclosed  with  Sir  Sidney  Smith's  despatches 
is  one  from  the  secretary  of  Gezzar,  dated  Acre,  March 
1st,  1799,  in  which  the  Pacha  urgently  entreats  the  British 
commodore  to  come  to  his  help,  because  his  (Gezzar's) 
troops  had  failed  to  hold  El  Arisch,  and  the  %ame  troop% 
had  also  abandoned  Gaza  and  were  in  great  dread  of  tne 

1  Berthier,  *^  M^moires  ** ;  Belliard,  "  Bourrienne  et  sea  Erreurs/*  also 
corrects  Bourrienne.  As  to  the  dearth  of  food,  denied  by  Lanfrey,  see 
Captain  Krettly,  **  Souvenirs  historiques." 


French  at  Jaffa.     Considered  from  the  military  point  of 
view,  the  massacre  at   Jaffa  is   perhaps  defensible ;   and 


Bonaparte's  reluctant  assent  contrasts  favourably  with  the 
unhesitating  conduct  of  Cromwell  at  Drogheda.  Perhaps 
an  episode  like  that  at  Jaffa  is  not  without  its  uses  in  open- 
ing the  eyes  of  mankind  to  the  ghastly  shifts  by  which 


188  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  cbap. 

military  glory  may  have  to  be  won.  The  alternative  to 
the  massacre  was  the  detaching  of  a  French  battalion  to 
conduct  their  prisoners  to  Egypt.  As  that  would  seriously 
have  weakened  the  little  army,  the  prisoners  were  shot. 

A  deadlier  foe  was  now  to  be  faced.  Already  at  El 
Arisch  a  few  cases  of  the  plague  had  appeared  in  Kleber's 
division,  which  had  come  from  Rosetta  and  Damietta  ;  and 
the  relics  of  the  retreating  Mameluke  and  Turkish  forces 
seem  also  to  have  bequeathed  that  disease  as  a  fatal  legacy 
to  their  pursuers.  After  Jaffa  the  malady  attacked  most 
battalions  of  the  army ;  and  it  may  have  quickened  Bona- 
parte's march  towards  Acre.  Certain  it  is  that  he  rejected 
Kleber's  advice  to  advance  inland  towards  Nablus,  the 
ancient  Shechem,  and  from  that  commanding  centre  to 
dominate  Palestine  and  defy  the  power  of  Gezzar.^  Al- 
ways prompt  to  strike  at  the  heart,  the  commander-in-chief 
determined  to  march  straight  on  Acre,  where  that  notori- 
ous Turkish  pacha  sat  intrenched  behind  weak  walls  and 
the  ramparts  of  terror  which  his  calculating  ferocity  had 
reared  around  him.  Ever  since  the  age  of  the  Crusades 
that  seaport  had  been  the  chief  place  of  arms  of  Palestine  ; 
but  the  harbour  was  now  nearly  silted  up,  and  even  the 
neighbouring  roadstead  of  Hayfa  was  desolate.  The  for- 
tress was  formidable  only  to  orientals.  In  his  work,  ^^Les 
Ruines,"  Volney  had  remarked  about  Acre  :  *'  Through 
all  this  part  of  Asia  bastions,  lines  of  defence,  covered  ways, 
ramparts,  and  in  short  everything  relating  to  modern  for- 
tification are  utterly  unknown  ;  and  a  single  thirty-gun 
frigate  would  easily  bombard  and  lay  in  ruins  the  whole 
coast."  This  judgment  of  his  former  friend  undoubtedly 
lulled  Bonaparte  into  illusory  confidence,  and  the  rank  and 
file  after  their  success  at  Jaffa  expected  an  easy  triumph  at 
Acre. 

This  would  doubtless  have  happened  but  for  the  British 
help.  Captain  Miller  of  H.M.S.  "Theseus,"  thus  re- 
ported on  the  condition  of  Acre  before  Sir  Sidney 
Smith's  arrival : 

<'  I  found  almost  every  embrasure  empty  except  those  towards  the 
sea.    Many  years'  collection  of  the  dirt  of  the  town  thrown  in  such  a 

lEmoof,  **Le  General  Kl^ber,"  p.  201. 


IX  SYRIA  189 

sitaation  as  completeljr  coTered  the  approach  to  the  gate  from  the  only 
ffuns  that  could  flank  it  and  from  the  sea  .  .  .  none  of  their  batteries 
have  casemates,  traverses,  or  splinter-proofs:  they  have  many  gimsi 
but  generally  small  and  defective — the  carriages  in  general  so."  ^ 

Captain  Miller's  energy  made  good  some  of  these  de- 
fects; but  the  place  was  still  lamentably  weak  when, 
on  March  16th,  Sir  Sidney  Smith  arrived.  The  Eng- 
lish squadron  in  the  east  of  the  Mediterranean  had,  to 
Nelson's  chagrin,  been  confided  to  the  command  of 
this  ardent  young  officer,  who  now  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  capture  off  the  promontory  of  Mount  Carmel 
seven  French  vessels  containing  Bonaparte's  siege-train. 
This  event  had  a  decisive  influence  on  the  fortunes  of 
the  siege  and  of  the  whole  campaign.  The  French  can- 
non were  now  hastily  mounted  on  the  very  walls  that 
they  had  been  intended  to  break;  while  the  gun 
vessels  reinforced  the  two  English  frigates,  and  were 
ready  to  pour  a  searching  fire  on  the  assailants  in  their 
trenches  or  as  they  rushed  against  the  walls.  These 
had  also  been  hastily  strengthened  under  the  direction 
of  a  French  royalist  officer  named  Phelippeaux,  an  old 
schoolfellow  of  Bonaparte,  and  later  on  a  comrade  of 
Sidney  Smith,  alike  in  his  imprisonment  and  in  his 
escape  from  the  clutches  of  the  revolutionists.  Sharing 
the  lot  of  the  adventurous  young  seaman,  Phelippeaux 
sailed  to  the  Levant,  and  now  brought  to  the  defence  of 
Acre  the  science  of  a  skilled  engineer.  Bravely  seconded 
by  British  officers  and  seamen,  he  sought  to  repair  the 
breach  effected  by  the  French  field-pieces,  and  con- 
structed at  the  most  exposed  points  inner  defences,  be- 
fore which  the  most  obstinate  efforts  of  the  storming 
parties  melted  away.  Nine  times  did  the  assailants 
advance  against  the  breaches  with  the  confidence  born 
of  unfailing  success  and  redoubled  by  the  gaze  of  their 
great  commander ;  but  as  often  were  they  beaten  back  by 
the  obstinate  bravery  of  the  British  seamen  and  Turks. 

The  monotony  was  once  relieved  by  a  quaint  incident. 
In  the  course  of  a  correspondence  with  Bonaparte,  Sir 
Sidney  Smith  showed  his  annoyance  at  some  remark  by 
sending  him  a  challenge  to  a  duel.     It  met  with  the  very 

1  *' Admiralty  Records,'*  Mediterranean,  No.  19. 


190  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

proper  reply  that  he  would  fight  if  the  English  would 
send  out  a  Marlborough. 

During  these  desperate  conflicts  Bonaparte  detached 
a  considerable  number  of  troops  inland  to  beat  off  a 
large  Turkish  and  Mameluke  force  destined  for  the  relief 
of  Acre  and  the  invasion  of  Egypt.  The  first  encounter 
was  near  Nazareth,  where  Junot  displayed  the  dash  and 
resource  which  had  brought  him  fame  in  Italy ;  but  the 
decisive  battle  was  fought  in  the  Plain  of  Esdraelon,  not 
far  from  the  base  of  Mount  Tabor.  There  Kleber's  divi- 
sion of  2,000  men  was  for  some  hours  hard  pressed  by  a 
motley  array  of  horse  and  foot  drawn  from  diverse  parts 
of  the  Sultan's  dominions.  The  heroism  of  the  burly 
Alsacian  and  the  toughness  of  his  men  barely  kept  on 
the  fierce  rushes  of  the  Moslem  horse  and  foot.  At  last 
Bonaparte's  cannon  were  heard.  The  chief,  marching 
swiftly  on  with  his  troops  drawn  up  in  three  squares, 
speedily  brushed  aside  the  enveloping  clouds  of  orientals ; 
finally,  by  well-combined  efforts  the  French  hurled  back 
the  enemy  on  passes,  some  of  which  had  been  seized  by 
the  commander's  prescience.  At  the  close  of  this  mem- 
orable day  (April  15th)  an  army  of  nearly  30,000  men 
was  completely  routed  and  dispersed  by  the  valour  and 
skilful  dispositions  of  two  divisions  which  together 
amounted  to  less  than  a  seventh  of  that  number.  No  battle 
of  modern  times  more  closely  resembles  the  exploits  of 
Alexander  than  this  masterly  concentration  of  force ;  and 
possibly  some  memory  of  this  may  have  prompted  the 
words  of  Kleber  —  "  General,  how  great  you  are  I  "  —  as 
he  met  and  embraced  his  commander  on  the  field  of  battle. 
Bonaparte  and  his  staff  spent  the  night  at  the  Convent  of 
Nazareth ;  and  when  his  officers  burst  out  laughing  at  the 
story  told  by  the  Prior  of  the  breaking  of  a  pillar  by  the 
angel  Gabriel  at  the  time  of  the  Annunciation,  their  un- 
timely levity  was  promptly  checked  by  the  frown  of  the 
commander. 

The  triumph  seemed  to  decide  the  Christians  of  the 
Lebanon  to  ally  themselves  with  Bonaparte,  and  they 
secretly  covenanted  to  furnish  12,000  troops  at  his  cost ; 
but  this  question  ultimately  depended  on  the  siege  of 
Acre.      On  rejoining  their  comrades  before   Acre,   the 


iz  SYRIA  191 

victors  found  that  the  siege  had  made  little  progpress  :  for 
a  time  the  besiegers  relied  on  mining  operations,  but  with 
little  success ;  though  Phelippeaux  succumbed  to  a  sun- 
stroke (May  1st),  his  place  was  filled  by  Colonel  Douglas, 
who  foiled  the  eJGForts  of  the  French  engineers  and 
enabled  the  place  to  hold  out  till  the  advent  of  the  long- 
expected  Turkish  succours.  On  May  7th  their  sails 
were  visible  far  out  on  an  almost  windless  sea.  At  once 
Bonaparte  made  desperate  efforts  to  carry  the  "mud- 
hole"  by  storm.  Led  with  reckless  gallantry  by  the 
heroic  Lannes,  his  troops  gained  part  of  the  wall  and 
planted  the  tricolour  on  the  north-east  tower;  but  all 
further  progress  was  checked  by  English  blue-jackets, 
whom  the  commodore  poured  into  the  town;  and  the 
Turkish  reinforcements,  wafted  landwards  by  a  favour- 
ing breeze,  were  landed  in  time  to  wrest  the  ramparts 
from  the  assailants'  grip.  On  the  following  day  an 
assault  was  again  attempted :  from  the  English  ships 
Bonaparte  could  be  clearly  seen  on  Richard  Cceur  de 
Lion's  mound  urging  on  the  French ;  but  though,  under 
Lannes'  leadership,  they  penetrated  to  the  garden  of 
Gezzar's  seraglio,  they  fell  in  heaps  under  the  bullets, 
pikes,  and  scimitars  of  the  defenders,  and  few  returned 
alive  to  the  camp.  Lannes  himself  was  dangerously 
wounded,  and  saved  only  by  the  devotion  of  an  officer. 

Both  sides  were  now  worn  out  by  this  extraordinary 
siege.  "  This  town  is  not,  nor  ever  has  been,  defensible 
according  to  the  rules  of  art ;  but  according  to  every  other 
rule  it  must  and  shall  be  defended  " —  so  wrote  Sir  Sid- 
ney Smith  to  Nelson  on  May  9th.  But  a  fell  influence 
was  working  against  the  besiegers ;  as  the  season  advanced, 
they  succumbed  more  and  more  to  the  ravages  of  the 
plague;  and,  after  failing  again  on  May  10th,  many  of 
their  battalions  refused  to  advance  to  the  breach  over  the 
putrid  remains  of  their  comrades.  Finally,  Bonaparte, 
after  clinging  to  his  enterprise  with  desperate  tenacity,  on 
the  night  of  May  20th  gave  orders  to  retreat. 

This  siege  of  nine  weeks'  duration  had  cost  him  severe 
losses,  among  them  being  Generals  Caffarelli  and  Bon : 
but  worst  of  all  was  the  loss  of  that  reputation  for  invinci- 
bility which  he  had  hitherto  enjoyed.     His  defeat  at  Cal- 


102  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON   I  chap. 

diero,  near  Verona,  in  1796  had  been  oiBcially  converted 
into  a  victory  :  but  Acre  could  not  be  termed  anything 
but  a  reverse.  In  vain  did  the  commander  and  his  staff 
proclaim  that,  after  dispersing  the  Turks  at  Mount  Tabor, 
the  capture  of  Acre  was  superfluous  ;  his  desperate  efforts 
in  the  early  part  of  May  revealed  the  hoUowness  of  his 
words.  There  were,  it  is  true,  solid  reasons  for  his  retreat. 
He  had  just  heard  of  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  of  the 
Second  Coalition  against  France;  and  revolts  in  Egypt 
also  demanded  his  presence.^  But  these  last  events  fur- 
nished a  damning  commentary  on  his  whole  Syrian  enter- 
prise, which  had  led  to  a  dangerous  diffusion  of  the  French 
forces.  And  for  what  ?  For  the  conquest  of  Constanti- 
nople or  of  India  ?  That  dream  seems  to  have  haunted 
Bonaparte's  brain  even  down  to  the  close  of  the  siege  of 
Acre.  During  the  siege,  and  later,  he  was  heard  to  inveigh 
against "  the  miserable  little  hole  "  which  had  come  between 
him  and  his  destiny  —  the  Empire  of  the  East ;  and  it  is 
possible  that  ideas  which  he  may  at  first  have  set  forth  in 
order  to  dazzle  his  comrades  came  finally  to  master  his  whole 
being.  Certainly  the  words  just  quoted  betoken  a  quite 
abnormal  wilfulness  as  well  as  a  peculiarly  subjective 
notion  of  fatalism.  His  "  destiny  "  was  to  be  mapped  out 
by  his  own  prescience,  decided  by  his  own  will,  gripped 
by  his  own  powers.  Such  fatalism  had  nothing  in  com- 
mon with  the  sombre  creed  of  the  East :  it  was  merely  an 
excess  of  individualism  :  it  was  the  matured  expression  of 
that  feature  of  his  character,  curiously  dominant  even  in 
childhood,  that  what  he  wanted  he  must  of  necessity  have. 
How  strange  that  this  imperious  obstinacy,  this  sublima- 
tion of  western  will-power,  should  not  have  been  tamed 
even  by  the  overmastering  might  of  Nature  in  the 
Orient ! 

As  for  the  Empire  of  the  East,  the  declared  hostility  of 
the  tribes  around  Nablus  had  shown  how  futile  were  Bona- 
parte's efforts  to  win  over  Moslems  :  and  his  earlier  Mos- 
lem proclamations  were  skilfully  distributed  by  Sir  Sidne}'' 
Smith  among  the  Christians  of  Syria,  and  served  partly  to 
neutralize  the  efforts  which  Bonaparte  made  to  win  them 

1  "Corresp.,"  No.  4124  ;  Lavelette,  "  Mems.,"  ch.  xxL 


IX  STBIA  193 

over.i  Vain  indeed  was  the  effort  to  conciliate  the  Mos- 
lems in  Egypt,  and  yet  in  Syria  to  arouse  the  Christians 
against  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful.  Such  religious 
opportunism  smacked  of  the  Parisian  boulevards:  it  utterly 
ignored  the  tenacity  of  belief  of  the  East,  where  the  creed 
is  the  very  life.  The  outcome  of  all  that  finesse  was  seen 
in  the  closing  days  of  the  siege  and  during  the  retreat 
towards  Jaffa,  when  the  tribes  of  the  Lebanon  and  of  the 
Nablus  district  watched  like  vultures  on  the  hills  and 
swooped  down  on  the  retreating  columns.  The  pain  of 
disillusionment,  added  to  his  sympathy  with  the  sick 
and  wounded,  once  broke  down  Bonaparte's  nerves. 
Having  ordered  all  horsemen  to  dismount  so  that  there 
might  be  sufficient  transport  for  the  sick  and  maimed, 
the  commander  was  asked  by  an  equerry  which  horse 
he  reserved  for  his  own  use.  "Did  you  not  hear  the 
order,"  he  retorted,  striking  the  man  with  his  whip, 
"everyone  on  foot."  Rarely  did  this  great  man  mar  a 
noble  action  by  harsh  treatment :  the  incident  sufficiently 
reveals  the  tension  of  feeling,  always  keen,  and  now 
overwrought  by  physical  suffering  and  mental  disap- 
pointment. 

There  was  indeed  much  to  exasperate  him.  At  Acre 
he  had  lost  nearly  5,000  men  in  killed,  wounded,  and 
plague-stricken,  though  he  falsely  reported  to  the  Direc- 
tory that  his  losses  during  the  whole  expedition  did  not 
exceed  that  number :  and  during  the  terrible  retreat  to 
Jaffa  he  was  shocked,  not  only  by  occasional  suicides  of 
soldiers  in  his  presence,  but  by  the  utter  callousness  of 
officers  and  men  to  the  claims  of  the  sick  and  wounded. 
It  was  as  a  rebuke  to  this  inhumanity  that  he  ordered  all 
to  march  on  foot,  and  his  authority  seems  even  to  have 
been  exerted  to  prevent  some  attempts  at  poisoning  the 
plague-stricken.  The  narrative  of  J.  Miot,  commissary 
of  the  army,  shows  that  these  suggestions  originated 
among  the  soldiery  at  Acre  when  threatened  with  the  toil 
of  transporting  those  unfortunates  back  to  Egypt ;  and, 
as  his  testimony  is  generally  adverse  to  Bonaparte,  and  he 
mentions  the  same  horrible  device,  when  speaking  of  the 

1  Sidney  Smith's  '*  Despatch  to  Nelson  "  of  May  dOth,  1799. 


194  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

hospitals  at  Jaffa,  as  a  camp  rumour,  it  may  be  regarded 
as  scarcely  worthy  of  credence.^ 

Undoubtedly  the  scenes  were  heartrending  at  Jaffa  ; 
and  it  has  been  generally  believed  that  the  victims  of 
the  plague  were  then  and  there  put  out  of  their  miseries 
by  large  doses  of  opium.  Certainly  the  hospitals  were 
crowded  with  wounded  and  victims  of  the  plague ;  but 
during  the  seven  days'  halt  at  that  town  adequate  meas- 
ures were  taken  by  the  chief  medical  officers,  Desgenettes 
and  Larrey,  for  their  transport  to  Egypt.  More  than  a 
thousand  were  sent  away  on  ships,  seven  of  which  were 
fortunately  present ;  and  800  were  conveyed  to  Egypt  in 
carts  or  litters  across  the  desert.'  Another  fact  suffices 
to  refute  the  slander  mentioned  above.  From  the  de- 
spatch of  Sir  Sidney  Smith  to  Nelson  of  May  80th,  1799, 
it  appears  that,  when  the  English  commodore  touched  at 
Jaffa,  he  found  some  of  the  abandoned  ones  stUl  alive: 
"  We  have  found  seven  poor  fellows  in  the  hospital  and 
will  take  care  of  them."  He  also  supplied  the  French 
ships  conveying  the  wounded  with  water,  provisions,  and 
stores,  of  which  they  were  much  in  need,  and  allowed 
them  to  proceed  to  their  destination.  It  is  true  that  the 
evidence  of  Las  Casas  at  St.  Helena,  eagerly  cited  by 
Lanfrey,  seems  to  show  that  some  of  the  worst  cases  in 
the  Jaffa  hospitals  were  got  rid  of  by  opium ;  but  the 
admission  by  Napoleon  that  the  administering  of  opium 
was  justifiable  occurred  in  one  of  those  casuistical  discus- 
sions which  turn,  not  on  facts,  but  on  motives.  Conclu- 
sions drawn  from  such  conversations,  sixteen  years  or 
more  after  the  supposed  occurrence,  must  in  any  case 
give  ground  before  the  evidence  of  contemporaries,  which 
proves  that  every  care  was  taken  of  the  sick  and  wounded, 
that  the  proposals  of  poisoning  first  came  from  the  sol- 
diery, that  Napoleon  both  before  and  after  Jaffa  set  the 
noble  example  of  marching  on  foot  so  that  there  might  be 

1  J.  Miot^s  words  are :  **  Mais  s^il  en  faut  croire  cette  voiz  publique 
trop  Bouvent  organe  de  la  y^rit^  tardive,  qu'en  vain  les  grands  esp^rent 
enchalnerf  c^est  un  fait  trop  av^r^  que  quelques  bless^  du  Mont  Carmel  et 
une  grande  partie  des  malades  k  VhOpital  de  Jaffa  ont  p^ri  par  les  m^ica- 
ments  qui  leur  ont  6t6  administr^s/*    Can  this  be  called  evidence  ? 

^Larrey,  **  Relation  historique"  ;  Lavalette,  "Mems.,"  ch. 


IX  8TKIA  196 

sufHciency  of  transport,  that  nearly  all  the  unfortunates 
arrived  in  Egypt  and  in  fair  condition,  and  that  seven 
survivors  were  found  alive  at  Jaffa  by  English  officers.^ 

The  remaining  episodes  of  the  Eastern  Expedition  may 
be  briefly;  dismissed.  After  a  painful  desert  march  the 
army  returned  to  Egypt  in  June ;  and,  on  July  25th, 
under  the  lead  of  Murat  and  Lannes,  drove  into  the  sea 
a  large  force  of  Turks  which  had  effected  a  landing  in 
Aboiiir  Bay.  Bonaparte  was  now  weary  of  gaining  tri- 
umphs over  foes  whom  he  and  his  soldiers  despised. 
While  in  this  state  of  mind,  he  received  from  Sir  Sidney 
Smith  a  packet  of  English  and  German  newspapers  giving 
news  up  to  June  6th,  which  brought  him  quickly  to  a 
decision.  The  formation  of  a  powerful  coalition,  the  loss 
of  Italy,  defeats  on  the  Rhine,  and  the  schisms,  disgust, 
and  despair  prevalent  in  France  — all  drew  his  imagination 
westwards  away  from  the  illusory  Orient ;  and  he  deter- 
mined to  leave  his  army  to  the  care  of  Kleber  and  sail  to 
France. 

The  morality  of  this  step  has  been  keenly  discussed. 
The  rank  and  file  of  the  army  seem  to  have  regarded  it  as 
little  less  than  desertion,^  and  the  predominance  of  per- 
sonal motives  in  this  important  decision  can  scarcely  be 
denied.  His  private  aim  in  undertaking  the  Eastern  Ex- 
pedition, that  of  dazzling  the  imagination  of  the  French 
people  and  of  exhibiting  the  incapacity  of  the  Directory, 
had  been  abundantly  realized.  His  eastern  enterprise  had 
now  shrunk  to  practical  and  prosaic  dimensions,  namely, 
the  consolidation  of  French  power  in  Egypt.  Yet,  as  will 
appear  in  later  chapters,  he  did  not  give  up  his  oriental 
schemes  ;  though  at  St.  Helena  he  once  oddly  spoke  of  the 
Egyptian  expedition  as  an  "exhausted  enterprise,"  it  is 
clear  that  he  worked  hard  to  keep  his  colony.  The  career 
of  Alexander  had  for  him  a  charm  that  even  the  conquests 

^  See  Belliard,  ^*  Bourrienne  et  sea  Erreurs"  ;  also  a  letter  of  d'Aure, 
formerly  Intendant  General  of  this  armyf  to  the  *^  Journal  des  D6bat8  *' 
of  April  16th,  1829,  in  reply  to  Bourrienne. 

^  **  On  disait  tout  haut  quMl  se  sauvait  Iftchement,**  Merme  in  Ouitry's 
*<L'Arm^  en  Egypte/*  But  Bonaparte  had  prepared  for  this  discour- 
agement and  worse  eventualities  by  warning  El6ber  in  the  letter  of  Au- 
gust 22nd,  1799,  that  if  he  lost  1,500  men  by  the  plague  he  was  free  to 
treat  for  the  eyacuation  of  Egypt. 


106  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

of  Caesar  could  not  rival ;  and  at  the  height  of  his  Euro- 
pean triumphs,  the  hero  of  Austerlitz  was  heard  to  mur- 
mur :  "  J'ai  manque  a  ma  fortune  a  Saint- Jean  d'Acre."^ 

In  defence  of  his  sudden  return  it  may  be  urged  that  he 
had  more  than  once  promised  the  Directory  that  his  stay 
in  Egypt  would  not  exceed  five  months ;  and  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  now,  as  always,  he  had  an  alternative  plan 
before  him  in  case  of  failure  or  incomplete  success  in  the 
East.  To  this  alternative  he  now  turned  with  that  swift- 
ness and  fertility  of  resource  which  astonished  both  friends 
and  foes  in  countless  battles  and  at  many  political  crises. 

It  has  been  stated  by  Lanfrey  that  his  appointment  of 
Kleber  to  succeed  him  was  dictated  by  political  and  per- 
sonal hostility  ;  but  it  may  more  naturally  be  considered 
a  tribute  to  his  abilities  as  a  general  and  to  his  influence 
over  the  soldiery,  which  was  only  second  to  that  of  Bona- 
parte and  Desaix.  He  also  promised  to  send  him  speedy 
succour  ;  and  as  there  seemed  to  be  a  probability  of  France 
regaining  her  naval  supremacy  in  the  Mediterranean  by 
the  union  of  the  fleet  of  Bruix  with  that  of  Spain,  he  might 
well  hope  to  send  ample  reinforcements.  He  probably  did 
not  know  the  actual  facts  of  the  case,  that  in  July  Bruix 
tamely  followed  the  Spanish  squadron  to  Cadiz,  and  that 
the  Directory  had  ordered  Bruix  to  withdraw  the  French 
army  from  Egypt.  But,  arguing  from  the  facts  as  known 
to  him,  Bonaparte  might  well  believe  that  the  difficulties 
of  France  would  be  fully  met  by  his  own  return,  and  that 
Egypt  could  be  held  with  ease.  The  duty  of  a  great  com- 
mander is  to  be  at  the  post  of  greatest  danger,  and  that 
was  now  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  or  Mincio. 

The  advent  of  a  south-east  wind,  a  rare  event  there  at 
that  season  of  the  year,  led  him  hastily  to  embark  at  Alex- 
andria in  the  night  of  August  22nd- 28rd.  His  two  frig- 
ates bore  with  him  some  of  the  greatest  sons  of  France  ; 
his  chief  of  the  staff,  Berthier,  whose  ardent  love  for  Mad- 
ame Visconti  had  been  repressed  by  his  reluctant  deter- 
mination to  share  the  fortunes  of  his  chief ;  Lannes  and 
Murat,  both  recently  wounded,  but  covered  with  glory  by 
their  exploits  in  Syria  and  at  Aboukir ;  his  friend  Mar- 
mont,  as  well  as  Duroc,  Andreossi,  Bessieres,  Lavalette, 

^Lucien  Bonapartef  **  M^moires,'*  vol.  ii.,  ch.  ziv. 


IX  SYRIA  197 

Admiral  Gantheaume,  Monge,  and  BerthoUet,  his  secretary 
Bourrienne,  and  the  traveller  Denon.  He  also  left  orders 
that  Desaix,  who  had  been  in  charge  of  Upper  Egypt, 
should  soon  return  to  France,  so  that  the  rivalry  between 
him  and  Kleber  might  not  distract  French  councils  in 
Egypt.  There  seems  little  ground  for  the  assertion  that 
he  selected  for  return  his  favourites  and  men  likely  to  be 
politically  serviceable  to  him.  If  he  left  behind  the  ar- 
dently republican  Kleber,  he  also  left  his  old  friend  Junot : 
if  he  brought  back  Berthier  and  Marmont,  he  also  ordered 
the  return  of  the  almost  Jacobinical  Desaix.  Sir  Sidney 
Smith  having  gone  to  Cyprus  for  repairs,  Bonaparte  slipped 
out  unmolested.  By  great  good  fortune  his  frigates  eluded 
the  English  ships  cruising  between  Malta  and  Cape  Bon, 
and  after  a  brief  stay  at  Ajaccio,  he  and  his  comrades 
landed  at  Frejus  (October  9th).  So  great  was  the  enthu- 
siasm of  the  people  that,  despite  all  the  quarantine  regula- 
tions, they  escorted  the  party  to  shore.  "  We  prefer  the 
plague  to  the  Austrians,''  they  exclaimed  ;  and  this  feeling 
but  feebly  expressed  the  emotion  of  France  at  the  return 
of  the  Conqueror  of  the  East. 

And  yet  he  found  no  domestic  happiness.  Josephine's 
liaison  with  a  young  officer,  M.  Charles,  had  become  noto- 
rious owing  to  his  prolonged  visits  to  her  country  house. 
La  Malmaison.  Alarmed  at  her  husband's  return,  she 
now  hurried  to  meet  him,  but  missed  him  on  the  way ; 
while  he,  finding  his  home  at  Paris  empty,  raged  at  her 
infidelity,  refused  to  see  her  on  her  return,  and  declared 
he  would  divorce  her.  From  this  he  was  turned  by  the 
prayers  of  Eugene  and  Hortense  Beauharnais,  and  the 
tears  of  Josephine  herself.  A  reconciliation  took  place  ; 
but  there  was  no  reunion  of  hearts,  and  Mme.  ReLnhard 
echoed  the  feeling  of  respectable  society  when  she  wrote 
that  he  should  have  divorced  her  outright.  Thenceforth 
he  lived  for  Glory  alone. 


CHAPTER  X 

BRUMAIRE 

Rarblt  has  France  been  in  a  more  distracted  state  than 
in  the  summer  of  1799.  Royalist  revolts  in  the  west 
and  south  rent  the  national  life.  The  religious  schism 
was  unhealed ;  education  was  at  a  standstill ;  commerce 
had  been  swept  from  the  seas  by  the  British  fleets  ;  and 
trade  with  Italy  and  Germany  was  cut  off  by  the  war  of 
the  Second  Coalition. 

The  formation  of  this  league  between  Russia,  Austria, 
England,  Naples,  Portugal,  and  Turkey  was  in  the  main 
the  outcome  of  the  alarm  and  indignation  aroused  by  the 
reckless  conduct  of  the  Directory,  which  overthrew  the 
Bourbons  at  Naples,  erected  the  Parthenopsean  Republic, 
and  compelled  the  King  of  Sardinia  to  abdicate  at  Turin 
and  retire  to  his  island.  Russia  and  Austria  took  a  lead- 
ing part  in  forming  the  Coalition.  Great  Britain,  ever 
hampered  by  her  inept  army  organization,  offered  to  sup- 
ply money  in  place  of  the  troops  which  she  could  not 
properly  equip. 

But  under  the  •cloak  of  legitimacy  the  monarchical 
Powers  harboured  their  own  selfish  designs.  This  Nessus' 
cloak  of  the  First  Coalition  soon  galled  the  limbs  of  the 
allies  and  rendered  them  incapable  of  sustained  and  vigor- 
ous action.  Yet  they  gained  signal  successes  over  the  raw 
conscripts  of  France.  In  July,  1799,  the  Austro-Russian 
army  captured  Mantua  and  Alessandria ;  and  in  the  fol- 
lowing month  Suvoroff  gained  the  decisive  victory  of  Novi 
and  drove  the  remains  of  the  French  forces  towards  Genoa. 
The  next  months  were  far  more  favourable  to  the  tricolour 
flag,  for,  owing  to  Austro-Russian  jealousies,  Mass^na 
was  able  to  gain  an  important  victory  at  Ziirich  over  a 
Russian  army.  'In  the  north  the  republicans  were  also 
in  the  end  successful.     Ten  days  after  Bonaparte's  arrival 

198 


CHAP.  X  BRUMAIBB  109 

at  Frejus,  the^y  compelled  an  Anglo-Russian  force  cam- 
paigning in  Holland  to  the  capitulation  of  Alkmaar, 
whereby  the  Duke  of  York  agreed  to  withdraw  all  his 
troops  from  that  coast.  Disgusted  by  the  conduct  of 
his  allies,  the  Czar  Paul  withdrew  his  troops  from  any 
active  share  in  the  operations  by  land,  thenceforth  con- 
centrating his  efforts  on  the  acquisition  of  Corsica,  Malta, 
and  posts  of  vantage  in  the  Adriatic.  These  designs, 
which  were  well  known  to  the  British  Government, 
served  to  hamper  our  naval  strength  in  those  seas,  and  to 
fetter  the  action  of  the  Austrian  arms  in  Northern  Italy .^ 
Yet,  though  the  schisms  of  the  allies  finally  yielded  a 
victory  to  the  French  in  the  campaigns  of  1799,  the  posi- 
tion of  the  Republic  was  precarious.  The  danger  was 
rather  internal  than  external.  It  arose  from  embar- 
rassed finances,  from  the  civil  war  that  burst  out  with 
new  violence  in  the  north-west,  and,  above  all,  from  a 
sense  of  the  supreme  difficulty  of  attaining  political 
stabQity  and  of  reconciling  liberty  with  order.  The 
struggle  between  the  executive  and  legislative  powers, 
which  had  been  rudely  settled  by  the  coup  cTStat  of 
Fructidor,  had  been  postponed,  not  solved.  Public 
opinion  was  speedily  ruffled  by  the  Jacobinical  violence 
which  ensued.  The  stifling  of  liberty  of  the  press  and 
the  curtailment  of  the  right  of  public  meeting  served 
only  to  instil  new  energy  into  the  party  of  resistance  in 
the  elective  Councils,  and  to  undermine  a  republican 
government  that  relied  on  Venetian  methods  of  rule. 
Reviewing  the  events  of  those  days,  Madame  de  Stael 
finely  remarked  that  only  the  free  consent  of  the  people 
could  breathe  life  into  political  institutions ;  and  that 
the  monstrous  system  of  guaranteeing  freedom  by  des- 
potic means  served  only  to  manufacture  governments 
that  had  to  be  wound  up  at  intervals  lest  they  should 
stop  dead.^  Such  a  sarcasm,  coming  from  the  gifted 
lady  who  had  aided  and  abetted  the  stroke  of  Fructidor, 
shows  how  far  that  event  had  falsified  the  hopes  of  the 

1  In  OUT  <* Admiralty  Records "  (Mediterranean,  No.  21}  are  docu- 
ments which  prove  the  reality  of  Russian  designs  on  Corsica. 

*  *'  Consid.  sur  la  R6y.  Fran^aise,"  bk.  iii,  ch.  xiii.  See  too  Sciout, 
"  Le  Directoire,"  vol.  iv.,  chs.  xiil.-xiv. 


200  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap. 

sincerest  friends  of  the  Revolution.  Events  were  there- 
fore now  favourable  to  a  return  from  the  methods  of 
Rousseau  to  those  of  Richelieu ;  and  the  genius  who 
was  skilfully  to  adapt  republicanism  to  autocracy  was 
now  at  hand.  Though  Bonaparte  desired  at  once  to 
attack  the  Austrians  in  Northern  Italy,  yet  a  sure  in- 
stinct impelled  him  to  remain  at  Paris,  for,  as  he  said  to 
Marmont :  ^^  When  the  house  is  crumbling,  is  it  the  time 
to  busy  oneself  with  the  garden  ?  A  change  here  is  in- 
dispensable." 

The  sudden  rise  of  Bonaparte  to  supreme  power  can- 
not be  understood  without  some  reference  to  the  state 
of  French  politics  in  the  months  preceding  his  return  to 
France.  The  position  of  parties  had  been  strangely  com- 
plicated by  the  unpopularity  of  the  Directors.  Despite 
their  illegal  devices,  the  elections  of  1798  and  1799  for 
the  renewal  of  a  third  part  of  the  legislative  Councils  had 
signally  strengthened  the  anti-directorial  ranks.  Among 
the  Opposition  were  some  royalists,  a  large  number  of 
constitutionals,  whether  of  the  Feuillant  or  Girondin 
type,  and  many  deputies,  who  either  vaunted  the  name 
of  Jacobins  or  veiled  their  advanced  opinions  under  the 
convenient  appellation  of  "patriots."  Many  of  the  dep- 
uties were  young,  impressionable,  and  likelv  to  follow 
any  able  leader  who  promised  to  heal  the  scnisms  of  the 
country.  In  fact,  the  old  party  lines  were  being  effaced. 
The  champions  of  the  constitution  of  1795  (Year  III.) 
saw  no  better  means  of  defending  it  than  by  violating 
electoral  liberties  —  always  in  the  sacred  name  of  Lib- 
erty ;  and  the  Directory,  while  professing  to  hold  the 
balance  between  the  extreme  parties,  repressed  them  by 
turns  with  a  vigour  which  rendered  them  popular  and 
official  moderation  odious. 

In  this  general  confusion  and  apathy  the  dearth  of  states- 
men was  painfully  conspicuous.  Only  true  grandeur  of 
character  can  defy  the  withering  influences  of  an  age  of 
disillusionment ;  and  France  had  for  a  time  to  rely  upon 
Sieyes.  Perhaps  no  man  has  built  up  a  reputation  for 
political  capacity  on  performances  so  slight  as  the  Abbe 
Sieyes.  In  the  States  General  of  1789  he  speedily  acquired 
renown  for  oracular  wisdom,  owing  to  the  brevity  and  wit 


X  BRUMAIRB  901 

of  his  remarks  in  an  assembly  where  such  virtues  were 
rare.  But  the  course  of  the  Revolution  soon  showed 
the  barrenness  of  his  mind  and  the  timidity  of  his  char- 
acter. He  therefore  failed  to  exert  any  lastinsf  influence 
upon  events.  In  the  time  of  the  Terror  his  insignificance 
was  his  refuge.  His  witty  reply  to  an  inquiry  how  he 
had  then  fared  —  "  J'ai  vecu" — sufficiently  characterizes 
the  man.  In  the  Directorial  period  he  displayed  more 
activity.  He  was  sent  as  French  ambassador  to  Berlin, 
and  plumed  himself  on  having  persuaded  that  Court  to  a 
neutrality  favourable  to  France.  But  it  is  clear  that  the 
neutrality  of  Prussia  was  the  outcome  of  selfish  considera- 
tions. While  Austria  tried  the  hazards  of  war,  her 
northern  rival  husbanded  her  resources,  strengthened  her 
position  as  the  protectress  of  Northern  Germany,  and  dex- 
trously  sought  to  attract  the  nebula  of  middle  German 
States  into  her  own  sphere  of  influence.  From  his  task 
of  tilting  a  balance  which  was  already  decided,  Sieyes  was 
recalled  to  Paris  in  May,  1799,  by  the  news  of  his  election 
to  the  place  in  the  Directory  vacated  by  Rewbell.  The 
other  Directors  had  striven,  but 'in  vain,  to  prevent  his 
election  :  they  knew  well  that  this  impracticable  theorist 
would  speedily  paralyze  the  Government ;  for,  when 
previously  elected  Director  in  1795,  he  had  refused  to 
serve,  on  the  ground  that  the  constitution  was  thoroughly 
bad.  He  now  declared  his  hostility  to  the  Directory, 
and  looked  around  for  some  complaisant  military  chief 
who  should  act  as  his  tool  and  then  be  cast  away.  His 
first  choice,- J oubert,  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Novi. 
Moreau  seems  then  to  have  been  looked  on  with  favour  ; 
he  was  a  republican,  able  in  warfare  and  singularly  devoid 
of  skill  or  ambition  in  political  matters.  Relying  on  Mo- 
reau, Sieyes  continued  his  intrigues,  and  after  some  pre- 
liminary fencing  gained  over  to  his  side  the  Director 
Barras.  But  if  we  may  believe  the  assertions  of  the 
royalist,  Hyde  de  Neuville,  Barras  was  also  receiving 
the  advances  of  the  royalists  with  a  view  to  a  restora- 
tion of  Louis  XVIII.,  an  event  which  was  then  quite 
within  the  bounds  of  probability.  For  the  present, 
however,  Barras  favoured  the  plans  of  Sieyes,  and  helped 
him  to  get  rid  of  the  firmly  republican  Directors,  La 


202  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Reveilliere-Lepeaux  and  Merlin,  who  were  deposed  (30th 
Prairial).^ 

The  new  Directors  were  Gohier,  Roger  Ducos,  and 
Moulin ;  the  first,  an  elderly  respectable  advocate ;  the 
second,  a  Girondin  by  early  associations,  but  a  trimmer  by 
instinct,  and  therefore  easily  gained  over  by  Sieyes ; 
while  the  recommendations  of  the  third,  Moulin,  seem  to 
have  been  his  political  nullity  and  some  third-rate  military 
services  in  the  Vendean  war.  Yet  the  Directory  of  Prai- 
rial  was  not  devoid  of  a  spasmodic  energy,  which  served 
to  throw  back  the  invaders  of  France.  Bernadotte,  the 
fiery  Gascon,  remarkable  for  his  ardent  gaze,  his  encircling 
masses  of  coal-black  hair,  and  the  dash  of  Moorish  blood 
which  ever  aroused  Bonaparte's  respectful  apprehensions, 
was  Minister  of  War,  and  speedily  formed  a  new  army  of 
100,000  men  :  Lindet  undertook  to  re-establish  the  finances 
by  means  of  progressive  taxes  ;  the  Chouan  movement  in 
the  northern  and  western  departments  was  repressed  by  a 
law  legalizing  the  seizure  of  hostages ;  and  there  seemed 
some  hope  that  France  would  roll  back  the  tide  of  invasion, 
keep  her  "  natural  frontiers,"  and  return  to  normal  methods 
of  government. 

Such  was  the  position  of  affairs  when  Bonaparte's  arrival 
inspired  France  with  joy  and  the  Directory  with  ill-con- 
cealed dread.  As  in  1795,  so  now  in  1799,  he  appeared 
at  Paris  when  French  political  life  was  in  a  stage  of  tran- 
sition. If  ever  the  Napoleonic  star  shone  auspiciously,  it 
was  in  the  months  when  he  threaded  his  path  between 
Nelson's  cruisers  and  cut  athwart  the  maze  of  Sieyds' 
intrigues.  To  the  philosopher's  "  J'ai  vecu "  he  could 
oppose  the  crushing  retort  "  J'ai  vaincu." 

The  general,  on  meeting  the  thinker  at  Gohier's  house, 
studiously  ignored  him.  In  truth,  he  was  at  first  disposed 
to  oust  both  Sieyes  and  Barras  from  the  Directory.  The 
latter  of  these  men  was  odious  to  him  for  reasons  both 
private  and  public.  In  time  past  he  had  had  good  reasons 
for  suspecting  Josephine's  relations  with  the  voluptuous 
Director,  and  with  the  men  whom  she  met  at  his  house. 
During  the   Egyptian  campaign   his  jealousy  had  been 

1  La  R6veilli^re-L6peaux,  "Mems.,"  vol.  il.,  ch.  xliv. ;  Hyde  de 
Neuville,  vol.  i.,  clis.  vi.-yii. ;  Lavisse,  *<  R^v.  Fran^se,**  p.  394. 


X  BBUMAIBE  208 

fiercely  roused  in  another  quarter,  and,  as  we  have  seen, 
led  to  an  almost  open  breach  with  his  wife.  But  against 
Barras  he  still  harboured  strong  suspicions ;  and  the  fre- 
quency of  his  visits  to  the  Director's  house  after  returning 
from  Egypt  was  doubtless  due  to  his  desire  to  sound  the 
depths  of  his  private  as  well  as  of  his  public  immorality. 
If  we  may  credit  the  embarras  de  mensanges  which  has 
been  dignified  by  the  name  of  Barras'  "  Memoirs,"  Jose- 
phine once  fled  to  his  house  and  flung  herself  at  his  knees, 
begging  to  be  taken  away  from  her  husband ;  but  the  story 
is  exploded  by  the  moral  which  the  relator  clumsily  tacks 
on,  as  to  the  good  advice  which  he  gave  her.^  While 
Bonaparte  seems  to  have  found  no  grounds  for  suspecting 
Barras  on  this  score,  he  yet  discovered  his  intrigues  with 
various  malcontents;  and  he  saw  that  Barras,  holding 
the  balance  of  power  in  the  Directory  between  the  oppos- 
ing pairs  of  colleagues,  was  intriguing  to  get  the  highest 
possible  price  for  the  betrayal  of  the  Directory  and  of  the 
constitution  of  1706. 

For  Sieyes  the  general  felt  dislike  but  respect.  He  soon 
saw  the  advantage  of  an  alliance  with  so  learned  a  thinker, 
so  skilful  an  intriguer,  and  so  weak  a  man.  It  was  in- 
deed, necessary  ;  for,  after  making  vain  overtures  to 
Gohier  for  the  alteration  of  the  law  which  excluded  from 
the  Directory  men  of  less  than  forty  years  of  age,  the 
general  needed  the  alliance  of  Sieyds  for  the  overthrow  of 
the  constitution.  In  a  short  space  he  gathered  around 
him  the  malcontents  whom  the  frequent  crises  had  de- 
prived of  office,  Roederer,  Admiral  Bruix,  Real,  Cambsr 
ceres,  and,  above  all,  Talleyrand.  The  last-named,  already 
known  for  his  skill  in  diplomacy,  had  special  reasons  for 
favouring  the  alliance  of  Bonaparte  and  Sieyes :  he  had 
been  dismissed  from  the  Foreign  Office  in  the  previous 
month  of  July  because  in  his  hands  it  had  proved  to  be 
too  lucrative  to  the  holder  and  too  expensive  for  France. 
It  was  an  open  secret  that,  when  American  commissioners 
arrived  in  Paris  a  short  time  previously,  for  the  settle- 
ment of  various  disputes  between  the  two  countries,  they 
found  that  the  negotiations  would  not  progress  until 
250,000  dollars  had  changed  hands.     The  result  was  that 

1  Barras,  ^^Mems.,^*  vol.  iv.,  ch.  ii. 


204  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  gha^ 

hostilities  continued,  and  that  Talleyrand  soon  found  him- 
self deprived  of  office,  until  another  turn  of  the  revolution- 
ary kaleidoscope  should  restore  him  to  his  coveted  place.  ^ 
He  discerned  in  the  Bonaparte-Sieyes  combination  the 
force  that  would  give  the  requisite  tilt  now  that  Moreau 
gave  up  politics. 

The  army  and  most  of  the  generals  were  also  ready  for 
some  change,  only  Bernadotte  and  Jourdan  refusing  to 
listen  to  the  new  proposals  ;  and  the  former  of  these  came 
"with  sufficiently  bad  grace  "  to  join  Bonaparte  at  the  time 
of  action.  The  police  was  secured  through  that  dextrous 
trimmer,  the  regicide  Fouche,  who  now  turned  against 
the  very  men  who  had  recently  appointed  him  to  office. 
Feeling  sure  of  the  soldiery  and  police,  the  innovators 
fixed  the  18th  of  Brumaire  as  the  date  of  their  enterprise. 
There  were  many  conferences  at  the  houses  of  the  conspira- 
tors ;  and  one  of  the  few  vivid  touches  which  relieve  the 
dull  tones  of  the  Talleyrand  "  Memoirs  "  reveals  the  con- 
sciousness of  these  men  that  they  were  conspirators.  Late 
on  a  night  in  the  middle  of  Brumaire,  Bonaparte  came  to 
Talleyrand's  house  to  arrange  details  of  the  coup  (TStat, 
when  the  noise  of  carriages  stopping  outside  caused  them 
to  pale  with  fear  that  their  plans  were  discovered.  At 
once  the  diplomatist  blew  out  the  lights  and  hurried  to 
the  balcony,  when  he  found  that  their  fright  was  due 
merely  to  an  accident  to  the  carriages  of  the  revellers  and 
gamesters  returning  from  the  Palais  Royal,  which  were 
guarded  by  gendarmes.  The  incident  closed  with  laugh- 
ter and  jests ;  but  it  illustrates  the  tension  of  the  nerves 
of  the  politicsd  gamesters,  as  also  the  mental  weakness  of 
Bonaparte  when  confronted  by  some  unknown  danger. 
It  was  perhaps  the  only  weak  point  in  his  intellectual 
armour ;  but  it  was  to  be  found  out  at  certain  crises  of 
his  career. 

Meanwhile  in  the  legislative  Councils  there  was  a  feel- 
ing of  vague  disquiet.  The  Ancients  were,  on  the  whole, 
hostile  to  the  Directory,  but  in  the  Council  of  Five  Hun- 
dred the  democratic  ardour  of  the  younger  deputies  fore- 
boded a  fierce  opposition.      Yet  there  also  the  plotters 

»  »» Hiet.  of  the  United  States  "  (1801-1818),  by  H.  Adams,  vol  L,  ch. 
ziy.,  and  Ste.  Beuve's  ^* Talleyrand.'* 


X  BRUMAIRE  205 

found  many  adherents,  who  followed  the  lead  now  cautiously 
given  by  Lucien  Bonaparte.  This  young  man,  whose  im- 
passioned speeches  had  marked  him  out  as  an  irrgpzoack- 
a^le-patiiot,  was  now  President  of  that  Council.  No  event 
could  have  been  more  auspicious  for  the  conspirators.  With 
Sieyes,  Barras,  and  Ducos,  as  traitors  in  the  Directory,  with 
the  Ancients  favourable,  and  the  junior  deputies  under 
the  presidency  of  Lucien,  the  plot  seemed  sure  of  success. 

The  first  important  step  was  taken  by  the  Council  of 
Ancients,  who  decreed  the  transference  of  the  sessions  of 
the  Councils  to  St.  Cloud.  The  danger  of  a  Jacobin  plot 
was  urged  as  a  plea  for  this  motion,  which  was  declared 
carried  without  the  knowledge  either  of  the  Directory  as 
a  whole,  or  of  the  Five  Hundred,  whose  opposition  would 
have  been  vehement.  The  Ancients  then  appointed  Bona- 
parte to  command  the  armed  forces  in  and  near  Paris. 
The  next  step  was  to  insure  the  abdication  of  Oohier  and 
Moulin.  Seeking  to  entrap  Gohier,  then  the  President 
of  the  Directory,  Josephine  invited  him  to  breakfast  on 
the  morning  of  18th  Brumaire ;  but  Gohier,  suspecting  a 
snare,  remained  at  his  official  residence,  the  Luxemburg 
Palace.  None  the  less  the  Directory  was  doomed  ;  for 
the  two  defenders  of  the  institution  had  not  the  necessary 
quorum  for  giving  effect  to  their  decrees.  Moulin  there- 
upon escaped,  and  Gohier  was  kept  under  guard  —  by 
Moreau's  soldiery  1  ^ 

Meanwhile,  accompanied  by  a  brilliant  group  of  generals, 
Bonaparte  proceeded  to  the  Tuileries,  where  the  Ancients 
were  sitting ;  and  by  indulging  in  a  wordy  declamation 
he  avoided  taking  the  oath  to  the  constitution  required 
of  a  general  on  entering  upon  a  new  command.  In 
the  Council  of  Five  Hundred,  Lucien  Bonaparte  stopped 
the  eager  questions  and  murmurs,  on  the  pretext  that  the 
session  was  only  legal  at  St.  Cloud. 

There,  on  the  next  day  (19th  Brumaire  or  10th  Novem- 
ber), a  far  more  serious  blow  was  to  be  struck.  The  over- 
throw of  the  Directory  was  a  foregone  conclusion.  But 
with  the  Legislature  it  was  far  otherwise,  for  its  life  was 
still  whole  and  vigorous.     Yet,  while  amputating  a  mori- 

1  Gohier,  **  Mems.,"  vol.  i. ;  Lavalette's  "  Mems.,"  ch.  nil. ;  Roederer, 
"  CBuvres,"  vol.  iU.,  p.  301 ;  MadeUn's  "  Fouch6,"  p.  267. 


a06  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

bund  limb,  the  plotters  did  not  scruple  to  paralyze  the 
brain  of  the  body  politic. 

Despite  the  adhesion  of  most  of  the  Ancients  to  his 
plans,  Bonaparte,  on  appearing  before  them,  could  only 
utter  a  succession  of  short,  jej^y  phrases  which  smacked 
of  the  barracks  rather  than  of  the  Senate.  Retiring  in 
some  confusion,  he  regains  his  presence  of  mind  among 
the  soldiers  outside,  and  enters  the  hall  of  the  Five  Hun- 
dred, intending  to  intimidate  them  not  only  by  threats, 
but  by  armed  force.  At  the  sight  of  the  uniforms  at  the 
door,  the  republican  enthusiasm  of  the  younger  deputies 
catches  fire.  They  fiercely  assail  him  with  cries  of  "  Down 
with  the  tyrant  1  down  with  the  Dictator  I  outlaw  him  I  " 
In  vain  Lucien  Bonaparte  commands  order.  Several 
deputies  rush  at  the  general,  and  fiercely  shake  him  by 
the  coUar.  He  turns  faint  with  excitement  and  chagrin  ; 
but  Lefebvre  and  a  few  grenadiers  rushing  up  drag  him 
from  the  hall.  He  comes  forth  like  a  somnambulist  (savs 
an  onlooker),  pursued  by  the  terrible  cry,  "  Hors  la  loi  1 " 
Had  the  cries  at  once  taken  form  in  a  decree,  the  history 
of  the  world  might  have  been  different.  One  of  the  depu- 
ties, General  Augereau,  fiercely  demands  that  the  motion 
of  outlawry  be  put  to  the  vote.  Lucien  Bonaparte  refuses, 
protests,  weeps,  finally  throws  off  his  ofBcial  robes,  and  is 
rescued  from  the  enraged  deputies  by  grenadiers  whom 
the  conspirators  send  in  for  this  purpose.  Meanwhile 
Bonaparte  and  his  friends  were  hastily  deliberating,  when 
one  of  their  number  brought  the  news  that  the  deputies 
had  declared  the  general  an  outlaw.  The  news  chased 
the  blood  from  his  cheek,  until  Sieyes,  whose  %ang  froid 
did  not  desert  him  in  these  civilian  broils,  exclaims,  *^  Since 
they  outlaw  you,  they  are  outlaws."  This  revolutionary 
logic  recalls  Bonaparte  to  himself.  He  shouts, "  To  arms !  *' 
Lucien,  too,  mounting  a  horse,  appeals  to  the  soldiers  to 
free  the  Council  from  the  menaces  of  some  deputies  armed 
with  daggers,  and  in  the  pay  of  England,  who  are  terror- 
izing the  majority.  The  shouts  of  command,  clinched  by 
the  adroit  reference  to  daggers  and  English  gold,  cause 
the  troops  to  waver  in  their  duty ;  and  Lucien,  pressing 
his  advantage  to  the  utmost,  draws  a  sword,  and,  holding 
it  towards  his  brother,  exclaims  that  he  will  stab  him  u 


X  BRUMAIRE  207 

ever  he  attempts  anything  against  liberty.  Murat,  Leclerc, 
and  other  generals  enforce  this  melodramatic  appeal  by 
shouts  for  Bonaparte,  which  the  troops  excitedly  take  up. 
The  drums  sound  for  an  advance,  and  the  troops  forth- 
with enter  the  hall.  In  vain  the  deputies  raise  the  shout, 
"  Vive  la  Republique,"  and  invoke  the  constitution.  Ap- 
peals to  the  law  are  overpowered  by  the  drum  and  by 
shouts  for  Bonaparte ;  and  the  legislators  of  France  fly 
pell-mell  from  the  hall  through  doors  and 'windows.^ 

Thus  was  fulfilled  the  prophecy  which  eight  years  pre- 
viously Burke  had  made  in  his  immortal  work  on  the 
French  Revolution.  That  great  thinker  had  predicted 
that  French  liberty  would  fall  a  victim  to  the  first  great 
general  who  drew  the  eyes  of  all  men  upon  himself. 
"  The  moment  in  which  that  event  shall  happen,  the  per- 
son who  really  commands  the  army  is  your  master,  the 
master  of  your  king,  the  master  of  your  Assembly,  the 
master  of  your  whole  republic." 

Discussions  about  the  coup  cTStat  of  Brumaire  generally 
confuse  the  issue  at  stake  by  ignoring  the  difference  be- 
tween the  overthrow  of  the  Directory  and  that  of  the 
Legislature.  The  collapse  of  the  Dyjgctory  was  certain 
to  take  place ;  but  few  expected  that  the  Legislature  of 
France  would  likewise  vanish.  For  vanish  it  did :  not 
for  nearly  half  a  century  had  France  another  free  and 
truly  democratic  representative  assembly.  This  result  of 
Brumaire  was  unexpected  by  several  of  the  men  who 
plotted  the  overthrow  of  unpopular  Directors,  and  hoped 
for  the  nipping  of  Jacobinical  or  royalist  designs.  In- 
deed, no  event  in  French  history  is  more  astonishing  than 
the  dispersal  of  the  republican  deputies,  most  of  whom 
desired  a  change  of  personnel  but  not  a  revolution  in 
methods  of  government.  Until  a  few  days  previously  the 
Councils  had  the  allegiance  of  the  populace  and  of  the 
soldiers  ;  the  troops  at  St.  Cloud  were  loyal  to  the  consti- 
tution, and  respected  the  persons  of  the  deputies  until 

1  For  the  story  about  Ar^na^s  dagger,  raised  against  Bonaparte,  see 
Sciout,  vol.  iy.,  p.  652.  It  seems  due  to  Lucien  Bonaparte.  I  take  the 
carious  details  about  Bonaparte^s  sudden  pallor  from  Roederer  ('*  CBuvres,'* 
Yol.  iii.,  p.  302),  who  heard  it  from  Montrond,  Talleyrand's  secretary.  So 
Aulard,  **  Hist,  de  la  R6v.  Fr.,'*  p.  699. 


208  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

they  were  deluded  by  Lucien.  For  a  few  minutes  the 
fate  of  France  trembled  in  the  balance ;  and  the  conspira- 
tors knew  it.^  Bonaparte  confessed  it  by  his  incoherent 
gaspings  ;  Sieyes  had  his  carriage  ready,  with  six  horses, 
for  flight ;  the  terrible  cry,  "  Hors  la  loi  I "  if  raised 
against  Bonaparte  in  the  heart  of  Paris,  would  certainly 
have  roused  the  populace  to  fury  in  the  cause  of  liberty 
and  have  swept  the  conspirators  to  the  guillotine.  But, 
as  it  was,  the  affair  was  decided  in  the  solitudes  of  St. 
Cloud  by  Lucien  and  a  battalion  of  soldiers. 

Efforts  have  frequently  been  made  to  represent  the 
events  of  Brumaire  as  inevitable  and  to  dovetail  them  in 
with  a  pretended  philosophy  of  history.  But  it  is  impos- 
sible to  study  them  closely  without  observing  how  narrow 
was  the  margin  between  the  success  and  failure  of  the 
plot,  and  how  jagged  was  the  edge  of  an  affair  which 
philosophizers  seek  to  fit  in  with  their  symmetrical  expla- 
nations. In  truth,  no  event  of  world-wide  importance 
was  ever  decided  by  circumstances  so  trifling.  "  There  is 
but  one  step  from  triumph  to  a  fall.  I  have  seen  that  in 
the  greatest  affairs  a  little  thing  has  always  decided  im- 
portant events  "  —  so  wrote  Bonaparte  three  years  before 
his  triumph  at  St.  Cloud :  he  might  have  written  it  of 
that  event.  It  is  equally  questionable  whether  it  can  be 
regarded  as  saving  France  from  anarchy.  His  admirers, 
it  is  true,  have  striven  to  depict  France  as  trodden  down 
by  invaders,  dissolved  by  anarchy,  and  saved  only  by  the 
stroke  of  Brumaire.  But  she  was  already  triumphant :  it 
was  quite  possible  that  she  would  peacefully  adjust  her 
governmental  difl&culties  :  they  were  certainly  no  greater 
than  they  had  been  in  and  since  the  year  1797 :  Fouche 
had  closed  the  club  of  the  Jacobins :  the  Councils  had 
recovered  their  rightful  influence,  and,  but  for  the  plotters 
of  Brumaire,  might  have  effected  a  return  to  ordinary 
government  of  the  type  of  1795-7.  This  was  the  real 
blow ;  that  the  vigorous  trunk,  the  Legislature,  was 
struck  down  along  with  the  withering  Directorial  branch. 

The  friends  of  liberty  might  well  be  dismayed  when 
they  saw  how  tamely  France  accepted  this  astounding 
stroke.     Some  allowance  was  naturally  to  be  made,  at 

^Talleyrand,  **Mems.,**  toI.  i.,  part  il ;  Marmont,  bk.  v. 


X  BRUMAIRE  209 

first,  for  the  popular  apathy :  the  Jacobins,  already  dis- 
couraged by  past  repression,  were  partly  dazed  by  the 
suddenness  of  the  blow,  and  were  also  ignorant  of  the 
aims  of  the  men  who  dealt  it ;  and  while  they  were  wait- 
ing to  see  the  import  of  events,  power  passed  rapidly  into 
the  hands  of  Bonaparte  and  his  coadjutors.  Such  is  an 
explanation,  in  part  at  least,  of  the  strange  docility  now 
shown  by  a  populace  which  still  vaunted  its  loyalty  to 
the  democratic  republic.  But  there  is  another  explana- 
tion, which  goes  far  deeper.  The  revolutionary  strifes 
had  wearied  the  brain  of  France  and  had  predisposed  it  to 
accept  accomplished  facts.  Distracted  by  the  talk  about 
royalist  plots  and  Jacobin  plots,  cowering  away  from  the 
white  ogre  and  the  red  spectre,  the  more  credulous  part 
of  the  populace  was  fain  to  take  shelter  under  the  cloak 
of  a  great  soldier,  who  at  least  promised  order.  Every- 
thing favoured  the  drill-sergeant  theory  of  government. 
The  instincts  developed  by  a  thousand  years  of  monarchy 
had  not  been  rooted  out  in  the  last  decade.  They  now 
prompted  France  to  rally  round  her  able  man ;  and,  aban- 
doning political  liberty  as  a  hopeless  quest,  she  obeyed 
the  imperious  call  which  promised  to  revivify  the  order 
and  brilliance  of  her  old  existence  with  the  throbbing 
blood  of  her  new  life. 

The  French  constitution  was  now  to  be  reconstructed 
by  a  self-appointed  commission  which  sat  with  closed 
doors.  This  strange  ending  to  all  the  constitution-build- 
ing of  a  decade  was  due  to  the  adroitness  of  Lucien  Bona- 
parte. At  the  close  of  that  eventful  day,  the  19th  of 
Brumaire,  he  gathered  about  him  in  the  deserted  hall  at 
St.  Cloud  some  score  or  so  of  the  dispersed  deputies  known 
to  be  favourable  to  his  brother,  declaimed  against  the 
Jacobins,  whose  spectral  plot  had  proved  so  useful  to  the 
real  plotters,  and  proposed  to  this  "  Rump  "  of  the  Coun- 
cil the  formation  of  a  commission  who  should  report  on 
measures  that  were  deemed  necessary  for  the  public  safety. 
The  measures  were  found  to  be  the  deposition  of  the 
Directory,  the  expulsion  of  sixty-one  members  from  the 
Councils,  the  nomination  of  Sieyes,  Roger  Ducos,  and 
Bonaparte  as  provisional  Consuls,  and  the  adjournment 
of  the  Councils  for  four  months.     The  Consuls  accord- 


210  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

ingly  took  up  their  residence  in  the  Luxemburg  Palace, 
just  vacated  by  the  Directors,  and  the  drafting  of  a  con- 
stitution was  confided  to  them  and  to  an  interim  com- 
mission of  fifty  members  chosen  equally  from  the  two 
Councils. 

The  illegality  of  these  devices  was  hidden  beneath  a 
cloak  of  politic  clemency.  To  this  commission  the  Con- 
suls, or  rather  Bonaparte  —  for  his  will  soon  dominated 
that  of  Sieyes  —  proposed  two  most  salutary  changes. 
He  desired  to  put  an  end  to  the  seizure  of  hostages  from 
villages  suspected  of  royalism  ;  and  also  to  the  exaction 
of  taxes  levied  on  a  progressive  scale,  which  harassed  the 
wealthy  without  proportionately  benefiting  the  exchequer. 
These  two  expedients,  adopted  by  the  Directory  in  the 
summer  of  1799,  were  temporary  measures  adopted  to 
stem  the  tide  of  invasion  and  to  crush  revolts  ;  but  they 
were  regarded  as  signs  of  a  permanently  terrorist  policy, 
and  their  removal  greatly  strengthened  the  new  consular 
rule.  The  blunder  of  nearly  all  the  revolutionary  govern- 
ments had  been  in  continuing  severe  laws  after  the  need 
for  them  had  ceased  to  be  pressing.  Bonaparte,  with 
infinite  tact,  discerned  this  truth,  and,  as  will  shortly 
appear,  set  himself  to  found  his  government  on  the  sup- 
port of  that  vast  neutral  mass  which  was  neither  royalist 
nor  Jacobin,  which  hated  the  severities  of  the  reds  no  less 
than  the  abuses  of  the  ancien  regime. 

While  Bonaparte  was  conciliating  the  many,  Sieyes  was 
striving  to  body  forth  the  constitution  which  for  many 
years  had  been  nebulously  floating  in  his  brain.  The 
function  of  the  Socratic  fuueinrf^  was  discharged  by  Bou- 
lay  de  la  Meurthe,  who  with  difficulty  reduced  those  ideas 
to  definite  shape.  The  new  constitution  was  based  on  the 
principle :  "  Confidence  comes  from  below,  power  from 
above.''  This  meant  that  the  people,  that  is,  all  adult 
males,  were  admitted  only  to  the  preliminary  stages  of 
election  of  deputies,  while  the  final  act  of  selection  was 
to  be  made  by  higher  grades  or  powers.  The  "confi- 
dence "  required  of  the  people  was  to  be  shown  not  only 
towards  their  nominees,  but  towards  those  who  were 
charged  with  the  final  and  most  important  act  of  selec- 
tion.    The  winnowing  processes  in  the  election  of  repre- 


X  BRUMAIRE  211 

sentatives  were  to  be  carried  out  on  a  decimal  system. 
The  adult  voters  meeting  in  their  several  districts  were 
to  choose  one-tenth  of  their  number,  this  tenth  being 
named  the  Notabilities  of  the  Commune.  These,  some 
five  or  six  hundred  thousand  in  number,  meeting  in  their 
several  Departments,  were  thereupon  to  choose  one-tenth 
of  their  number;  and  the  resulting  fifty  or  sixty  thou- 
sand men,  termed  Notabilities  of  the  Departments,  were 
ac^ain  to  name  one-tenth  of  their  number,  who  were  styled 
Notabilities  of  the  Nation.  But  the  most  important  act 
of  selection  was  still  to  come  —  from  above.  From  this 
last-named  list  the  governing  powers  were  to  select  the 
members  of  the  legislative  bodies  and  the  chief  officials 
and  servants  of  the  Government. 

The  executive  bow  claims  a  brief  notice.  The  well- 
worn  theory  of  the  distinction  of  powers,  that  is,  the  leg- 
islative and  executive  powers,  was  maintained  in  Sieyes' 
plan.  At  the  head  of  the  Government  the  philosopher 
desired  to  enthrone  an  august  personage,  the  Grand  Elec- 
tor, who  was  to  be  selected  by  the  Senate.  This  Grand 
Elector  was  to  nominate  two  Consuls,  one  for  peace,  the 
other  for  war;  they  were  to  nominate  the  Ministers  of 
State,  who  in  their  turn  selected  the  agents  of  power  from 
the  list  of  Notabilities  of  the  Nation.  The  two  Consuls 
and  their  Ministers  administered  the  executive  affairs. 
The  Senate,  sitting  in  dignified  ease,  was  merely  to  safe- 
guard the  constitution,  to  elect  the  Grand  Elector,  and  to 
select  the  members  of  the  Gor'p%  LSgi%latif  (proper)  and 
the  Tribunate. 

Distrust  of  the  former  almost  superhuman  activity  in 
law-making  now  appeared  in  divisions,  checks,  and  balances 
quite  ingenious  in  their  complexity.  The  Legislature  was 
divided  into  three  councils :  the  CorpB  LSgislatif^  properly 
so  called,  which  listened  in  silence  to  proposals  of  laws 
offered  by  the  Council  of  State  and  criticised  or  orally 
approved  by  the  Tribunate.^    These  three  bodies  were  not 

2  Napoleon  explained  to  Mettemich  in  1812  why  he  wished  to  silence 
the  Corps  lAgialatif:  **In  France  everyone  runs  after  applause:  they 
want  to  be  noticed  and  applauded.  .  .  .  Silence  an  Assembly,  which,  if 
it  is  anything,  must  be  deliberative,  and  you  discredit  it." — Metter- 
nich*s  "  Memoirs,"  vol.  i.,  p.  151. 


212  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

only  divided,  but  were  placed  in  opposition,  especially  the 
two  talking  bodies,  which  resembled  plaintiff  and  defend- 
ant pleading  before  a  gagged  judge.  But  even  so  the  con- 
stitution was  not  sufficiently  guarded  against  Jacobins  or 
royalists.  If  by  any  chance  a  dangerous  proposal  were 
forced  through  these  mutually  distrustful  bodies,  the 
Senate  was  charged  with  the  task  of  vetoing  it,  and  if  the 
Grand  Elector,  or  any  other  high  official,  strove  to  gain  a 
perpetual  dictatorship,  the  Senate  was  at  once  to  abiorb 
him  into  its  ranks. 

Moreover,  lest  the  voters  should  send  up  too  large  a 
proportion  of  Jacobins  or  royalists,  the  first  selection  of 
members  of  the  great  Councils  and  the  chief  functionaries 
for  local  affairs  was  to  be  made  by  the  Consuls,  who  thus 
primarily  exercised  not  only  the  "  power  from  above,"  but 
also  the  ^'  confidence  "  which  ought  to  have  come  from 
below.  Perhaps  this  device  was  necessary  to  set  in  motion 
Sieyes'  system  of  wheels  within  wheels ;  for  the  Senate, 
which  was  to  elect  the  Grand  Elector,  by  whom  the  ex- 
ecutive officers  were  indirectly  to  be  chosen,  was  in  part 
self-sufficient :  the  Consuls  named  the  first  members,  who 
then  co-opted,  that  is,  chose  the  new  members.  Some  im- 
pulse from  without  was  also  needed  to  give  the  constitu- 
tion life  ;  and  this  impulse  was  now  to  come.  Where 
Sieyes  had  only  contrived  wheels,  checks,  regulator,  break, 
and  safety-valve,  there  now  rushed  in  an  imperious  will 
which  not  only  simplified  the  parts  but  supplied  an  irre- 
sistible motive  power. 

The  complexity  of  much  of  the  mechanism,  especially 
that  relating  to  popular  election  and  the  legislature, 
entirely  suited  Bonaparte.  But,  while  approving  the 
triple  winnowing,  to  which  Sieyes  subjected  the  results  of 
manhood  suffrage,  and  the  subordination  of  the  legislative 
to  the  executive  authority,^  the  general  expressed  his 
entire  disapproval  of  the  limitations  of  the  Grand  Elector's 
powers.  The  name  was  anti-republican :  let  it  be  changed 
to  First   Consul.      And  whereas  Sieyes   condemned   his 

1  This  was  still  farther  assured  by  the  first  elections  under  the  new 
system  being  postponed  till  1801  ;  the  functionaries  chosen  by  the  Consuls 
were  then  placed  od  the  lists  of  notabilities  of  the  nation  without  vote. 
The  constitution  was  put  in  force  Dec.  25th,  1799. 


X  BBUHAIBE  218 

grand  functionary  to  the  repose  of  a  rai  fainSant^  Bona- 
parte secured  to  him  practically  all  the  powers  assigned 
by  Sieyes  to  the  Consids  for  Peace  and  for  War.  Lastly, 
Bonaparte  protested  against  the  right  of  absorbing  him 
being  given  to  the  Senate.  Here  also  he  was  successful ; 
and  thus  a  delicately  poised  bureaucracy  was  turned  into 
an  almost  unlimited  dictatorship. 

This  metamorphosis  may  well  excite  wonder.  But,  in 
truth,  Sieyes  and  his  colleagues  were  too  weary  and  scep- 
tical to  oppose  the  one  "  intensely  practical  man."  To 
Bonaparte's  trenchant  reasons  and  incisive  tones  the 
theorist  could  only  reply  by  a  scornful  silence  broken  by 
a  few  bitter  retorts.  To  the  irresistible  power  of  the 
general  he  could  only  oppose  the  subtlety  of  a  student. 
And,  indeed,  who  can  picture  Bonaparte,  the  greatest 
warrior  of  the  age,  delegating  the  control  of  all  warlike 
operations  to  a  Consul  for  War  while  Austrian  cannon 
were  thundering  in  the  county  of  Nice  and  British 
cruisers  were  insulting  the  French  coasts?  It  was  inevi- 
table that  the  reposeful  Grand  Elector  should  be  trans- 
formed into  the  omnipotent  First  Consul,  and  that  these 
powers  should  be  wielded  by  Bonaparte  himself.^ 

The  extent  of  the  First  Consul's  powers,  as  finally 
settled  by  the  joint  commission,  was  as  follows.  He  had 
the  direct  and  sole  nomination  of  the  members  of  the 
general  administration,  of  those  of  the  departmental  and 
municipal  councils,  and  of  the  administrators,  afterwards 
called  prefects  and  sub-prefects.  He  also  appointed  all 
military  and  naval  officers,  ambassadors  and  agents  sent  to 
foreign  Powers,  and  the  judges  in  civil  and  criminal  suits, 
except  the  juges  de  paix  and,  later  on,  the  members  of  the 
Cour  de  Caseation,  He  therefore  controlled  the  army, 
navy,  and  diplomatic  service,  as  well  as  the  general  admin- 
istration. He  also  signed  treaties,  though  these  might  be 
discussed,  and  must  be  ratified,  by  the  legislative  bodies. 
The  three  Consuls  were  to  reside  in  the  Tuileries  palace  ; 
but,  apart  from  the  enjoyment  of  150,000  francs  a  year,  and 
occasional  consultation  by  the  First  Consul,  the  position 
of  these  officials  was  so  awkward  that  Bonaparte  frankly 

1  RoedoTer,  '^  (Eavres,'*  vol.  iii.,  p.  303.  He  was  the  go-between  for 
Bonaparte  and  Sieyes. 


214  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

remarked  to  Roederer  that  it  would  have  been  better  to 
call  them  Grand  Councillors.  They  were,  in  truth,  super- 
numeraries added  to  the  chief  of  the  State,  as  a  concession 
to  the  spirit  of  equality  and  as  a  blind  to  hide  the  reality 
of  the  new  despotism.  All  three  were  to  be  chosen  for 
ten  years,  and  were  re-eligible. 

Such  is  an  outline  of  the  constitution  of  1799  (Year 
VIII.).  It  was  promulgated  on  December  ISth,  1799, 
and  was  offered  to  the  people  for  acceptance,  in  a  proc- 
lamation which  closed  with  the  words:  ^^ Citizens,  the 
Revolution  is  confined  to  the  principles  which  commenced 
it.  It  is  finished."  The  news  of  this  last  fact  decided 
the  enthusiastic  acceptance  of  the  constitution.  In  a 
plSbiicite^  or  mass  vote  of  the  people,  held  in  the  early 
days  of  1800,  it  was  accepted  by  an  overwhelming  major- 
ity, viz.,  by  8,011,007  as  against  only  1,562  negatives. 
No  fact  so  forcibly  proves  the  failure  of  absolute  democ- 
racy in  France ;  and,  whatever  may  be  said  of  the  meth- 
ods of  securing  this  national  acclaim,  it  was,  and  must 
ever  remain,  the  soundest  of  Bonaparte's  titles  to  power. 
To  a  pedant  who  once  inquired  about  his  genealogy  he 
significantly  replied  :  "  It  dates  from  Brumaire." 

Shortly  before  the  plSKscite^  Sieves  and  Ducos  resigned 
their  temporary  commissions  as  Consuls :  they  were  re- 
warded with  seats  in  the  Senate ;  and  Sieyes,  in  consid- 
eration of  his  constitutional  work,  received  the  estate  of 
Crosne  from  the  nation. 

^  Sieyha  k  Bonaparte  a  fait  present  du  trdne, 
Sous  un  pompeux  debris  croyant  rensevelir. 
Bonaparte  k  biey^s  a  fait  present  de  Crosne 
Pour  le  payer  et  Tavilir." 

The  sting  in  the  tail  of  Lebrun^s  epigram  struck  home. 
Sieyes'  acceptance  of  Crosne  was,  in  fact,  his  acceptance 
of  notice  to  quit  public  affairs,  in  which  he  had  always 
moved  with  philosophic  disdain.  He  lived  on  to  the  year 
1836  in  dignified  ease,  surveying  with  Olympian  calm  the 
storms  of  French  and  Continental  politics. 

The  two  new  Consuls  were  Cambaceres  and  Lebrun. 
The  former  was  known  as  a  learned  jurist  and  a  tactful 
man.     He  had  voted  for  the  death  of  Louis  XVI.,  but 


HK  TR001"S   HEPORE 


THiC   TMRKi-:   CONSL'I.S. 


MEDALS. 
From  Delarorhe's  "Tresor  de  Numismali 


X  BRUMAIRE  215 

his  subsequent  action  had  been  that  of  a  moderate,  and 
his  knowledge  of  legal  affairs  was  likely  to  be  of  the  high- 
est service  to  Bonaparte,  who  intrusted  him  with  a  gen- 
eral oversight  of  legislation.  His  tact  was  seen  in  his 
refusal  to  take  up  his  abode  in  the  Tuileries,  lest,  as  he 
remarked  to  Lebrun,  he  might  have  to  move  out  again 
soon.  The  third  Consul,  Lebrun,  was  a  moderate  with 
leanings  towards  constitutional  royalty.  He  was  to  prove 
another  useful  satellite  to  Bonaparte,  who  intrusted  him 
with  the  general  oversight  of  finance  and  regarded  him 
as  a  connecting  link  with  the  moderate  royalists.  The 
chief  secretary  to  the  Consuls  was  Maret,  a  trusty  politi- 
cal agent,  who  had  striven  for  peace  with  England  both 
in  1798  and  in  1797. 

As  for  the  Ministers,  they  were  now  reinforced  by 
Talleyrand,  who  took  up  that  of  Foreign  Affairs,  and  by 
Berthier,  who  brought  his  powers  of  hard  work  to  that 
of  War,  until  he  was  succeeded  for  a  time  by  Carnot. 
Lucien  Bonaparte,  and  later  Chaptal,  became  Minister  of 
the  Interior,  Gaudin  controlled  Finance,  Forfait  the  Navy, 
and  Fouche  the  Police.  The  Council  of  State  was  organ- 
ized in  the  following  sections:  that  of  TFar,  which  was 
presided  over  by  General  'Brune :  Marine^  by  Admiral 
Gantheaume :  Finance^  by  Defermon :  Leffidatiorij  by 
Boulay  de  la  Meurthe :  the  Interior^  by  Roederer. 

The  First  Consul  soon  showed  that  he  intended  to  adopt 
a  non-partisan  and  thoroughly  national  policy.  That  had 
been,  it  is  true,  the  aim  of  the  Directors  in  their  policy  of 
balance  and  repression  of  extreme  parties  on  both  sides. 
For  the  reasons  above  indicated,  they  had  failed :  but  now 
a  stronger  and  more  tactful  grasp  was  to  succeed  in  a  feat 
which  naturally  became  easier  every  year  that  removed 
the  passions  of  the  revolutionary  epoch  further  into  the 
distance.  Men  cannot  for  ever  perorate,  and  agitate  and 
plot.  A  time  infallibly  comes  when  an  able  leader  can 
successfully  appeal  to  their  saner  instincts :  and  that  hour 
had  now  struck.  Bonaparte's  appeal  was  made  to  the 
many,  who  cared  not  for  politics,  provided  that  they  them- 
selves were  left  in  security  and  comfort :  it  was  urged 
quietly,  persistently,  and  with  the  reserve  power  of  a 
mighty  prestige  and    of   overwhelming    military  force. 


816  THE  LIFB  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Throughoat  the  whole  of  the  Consulate,  a  policy  of  mod- 
eration, which  is  too  often  taken  for  weakness,  was 
strenuously  carried  through  by  the  strongest  man  and 
the  greatest  warrior  of  the  age. 

The  truly  national  character  of  his  rule  was  seen  in 
many  ways.  He  excluded  from  high  office  men  who  were 
notorious  regicides,  excepting  a  few  who,  like  Fouche, 
were  too  clever  to  be  dispensed  with.  The  constitutionals 
of  1791  and  even  declared  royalists  were  welcomed  back 
to  France,  and  many  of  the  Fructidorian  exiles  also 
returned.^  The  list  of  SmigrSs  was  closed,  so  that  neither 
political  hatred  nor  private  greed  could  misrepresent  a 
journey  as  an  act  of  political  emigration.  Equally  gener- 
ous and  prudent  was  the  treatment  of  Roman  Catholics. 
Toleration  was  now  extended  to  orthodox  or  non-juring 
priests,  who  were  required  merely  to  promise  allegiance 
to  the  new  constitution.  By  this  act  of  timely  clemency, 
orthodox  priests  were  allowed  to  return  to  France,  and 
they  were  even  suffered  to  officiate  in  places  where  no 
opposition  was  thereby  aroused. 

While  thus  removing  one  of  the  chief  grievances  of  the 
Norman,  Breton,  and  Vendean  peasants,  who  had  risen  as 
much  for  their  religion  as  for  their  king,  he  determined  to 
crush  their  revolts.  The  north-west,  and  indeed  parts  of 
the  south  of  France,  were  still  simmering  with  rebellions 
and  brigandage.  In  Normandy  a  daring  and  able  leader 
named  Frotte  headed  a  considerable  band  of  malcontents, 
and  still  more  formidable  were  the  Breton  "Chouans" 
that  followed  the  peasant  leader  Georges  Cadoudal.  This 
man  was  a  born  leader.  Though  but  thirty  years  of  age, 
his  fierce  courage  had  lon^  marked  him  out  as  the  first 
fighter  of  his  race  and  creed.  His  features  bespoke  a  bold, 
hearty  spirit,  and  his  massive  frame  defied  fatigue  and 
hardship.  He  struggled  on  ;  and  in  the  autumn  of  1799 
fortune  seemed  about  to  favor  the  "  whites "  :  the  revolt 
was  spreading  ;  and  had  a  Bourbon  prince  landed  in  Brit- 
tany before  Bonaparte  returned  from  Egypt,  the  royalists 
might  quite  possibly  have  overthrown  the  Directory.  But 

1  See  the  *^ Souvenirs**  of  Mathieu  Dumas  for  the  skilful  maimer  in 
which  Bonaparte  gained  over  the  services  of  this  constitutional  royalist 
and  employed  him  to  raise  a  body  of  volunteer  horse. 


X  BBUMAIRB  217 

Bonaparte's  daring  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  affairs. 
The  news  of  the  stroke  of  Brumaire  gave  the  royalists 
pause.  At  first  they  believed  that  the  First  Consul  would 
soon  call  back  the  king,  and  Bonaparte  skilfully  favoured 
this  notion  :  he  offered  a  pacification,  of  which  some  of 
the  harassed  peasants  availed  themselves.  Georges  him- 
self for  a  time  advised  a  reconciliation,  and  a  meeting  of 
the  royalist  leaders  voted  to  a  man  that  they  desired  ^^  to 
have  the  king  and  you"  (Bonaparte Y  One  of  them, 
Hyde  de  Neuville,  had  an  interview  with  the  First  Constil 
at  Paris,  and  has  left  on  record  his  surprise  at  seeing  the 
slight  form  of  the  man  whose  name  was  ringing  through 
France.  At  the  first  glance  he  took  him  for  a  rather 
poorly  dressed  lackey  ;  but  when  the  general  raised  his 
eyes  and  searched  him  through  and  through  with  their 
eager  fire,  the  royalist  saw  his  error  and  feU  under  the 
spell  of  a  gaze  which  few  could  endure  unmoved.  The 
interview  brought  no  definite  result. 

Other  overtures  made  by  Bonaparte  were  more  effec- 
tive. True  to  his  plan  of  dividing  his  enemies,  he  ap- 
pealed to  the  clergy  to  end  the  civU  strife.  The  appeal 
struck  home  to  the  heart  or  the  ambitions  of  a  cleric 
named  Bernier.  This  man  was  but  a  village  priest  of  La 
Vendee  :  yet  his  natural  abilities  gained  him  an  ascendancy 
in  the  councils  of  the  insurgents,  which  the  First  Consul 
was  now  victoriously  to  exploit.  Whatever  may  have 
been  Beruier's  motives,  he  certainly  acted  with  some 
duplicity.  Without  forewarning  Cadoudal,  Bourmont, 
Frotte,  and  other  royalist  leaders,  he  secretly  persuaded 
the  less  combative  leaders  to  accept  the  First  Consul's 
terms  :  and  a  pacification  was  arranged  (January  18th). 
In  vain  did  Cadoudal  rage  against  this  treachery  :  in  vain 
did  he  strive  to  break  the  armistice.  Frotte  in  Normandy 
was  the  last  to  capitulate  and  the  first  to  feel  Bonaparte's 
vengeance  :  on  a  trumped-up  charge  of  treachery  he  was 
hurried  before  a  court-martial  and  shot.  An  order  was 
sent  from  Paris  for  his  pardon  ;  but  a  letter  which  Bona- 
parte wrote  to  Brune  on  the  day  of  the  execution  contains 
the  ominous  phrase  :  By  this  time  Frotte  ought  to  be  shot ; 
and  a  recently  published  letter  to  Hedouville  expresses 
the  belief  that  the  punishment  of  that  desperate   leader 


218  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

wUl  dotibtlesa  cantribtUe  to  the  complete  pacijUation  of  the 
West.  1 

In  the  hope  of  gaining  over  the  Chouans,  Bonaparte 
•  required  their  chiefs  to  come  to  Paris,  where  they  re- 
ceived the  greatest  consideration.  In  Bernier  the  priest, 
Bonaparte  discerned  diplomatic  gifts  of  a  high  order, 
which  were  soon  to  be  tested  in  a  ntr  more  important  ne- 
gotiation. The  nobles,  too,  received  flattering  attentions 
which  touched  their  pride  and  assured  their  future  insig- 
nificance. Among  them  was  Count  Bourmont,  the  Judas 
of  the  Waterloo  campaign. 

In  contrast  with  the  priest  and  the  nobles,  (reorges 
Cadoudal  stood  firm  as  a  rock.  That  suave  tongue  spoke 
to  him  of  glory,  honour,  and  the  fatherland :  he  heeded 
it  not,  for  he  knew  it  had  ordered  the  death  of  Frotte. 
There  stood  these  fighters  alone,  face  to  face,  types  of  the 
north  and  south,  of  past  and  present,  fiercest  and  toughest 
of  living  men,  their  stem  wills  racked  in  wrestle  for  two 
hours.  But  southern  craft  was  foiled  by  Breton  stead- 
fastness, and  Georges  went  his  way  unshamed.  Once 
outside  the  palace,  his  only  words  to  his  friend,  Hyde  de 
Neuville,  were  :  "  What  a  mind  I  had  to  strangle  him  in 
these  arms  !  "  Shadowed  by  Bonaparte's  spies,  and  hear- 
ing that  he  was  to  be  arrested,  he  fled  to  England  ;  and 
Normandy  and  Brittany  enjoyed  the  semblance  of  peace.^ 

Thus  ended  the  civil  war  which  for  nearly  seven  years 
had  rent  France  in  twain.  Whatever  may  be  said  about 
the  details  of  Bonaparte's  action,  few  will  deny  its  benefi- 
cent results  on  French  life.  Harsh  and  remorseless  as 
Nature  herself  towards  individuals,  he  certainly,  at  this 
part  of  his  career,  promoted  the  peace  and  prosperity  of 
the  masses.  And  what  more  can  be  said  on  behalf  of  a 
ruler  at  the  end  of  a  bloody  revolution  ? 

Meanwhile  the  First  Consul  had  continued  to  develop 
Siey^s'  constitution  in  the  direction  of  autocracy.  The 
Council  of  State,  which  was  little  more  than  an  enlarged 
Ministry,  had  been  charged  with  the  vague  and  danger- 

1  *<  Lettres  in^tes  de  Napoleon/*  Febraax72l8t,  1800 ;  *<  M^moires  da 
G6n6ral  d'Andten^,"  ch.  xv. ;  Madelin'a  »'  Fouch^,"  p.  306. 

^^^ Georges  Cadoudal,**  par  son  neveu,  G.  de  Cadoudal;  Hyde  de 
Neuville,  vol.  i.,  p.  306. 


X  BRUMAIBE  219 

OU8  function  of  "  developing  the  sense  of  laws  "  on  the 
demand  of  the  Consuls ;  and  it  was  soon  seen  that  this 
Council  was  merely  a  convenient  screen  to  hide  the  opera- 
tions of  Bonaparte's  will.  On  the  other  hand,  a  blow  was 
struck  at  the  Tribunate,  the  only  public  body  which  had 
the  right  of  debate  and  criticism.  It  was  now  proposed 
(January,  1800)  that  the  time  allowed  for  debate  should 
be  strictly  limited.  This  restriction  to  the  right  of  free 
discussion  met  with  little  opposition.  One  of  the  most 
gifted  of  the  new  tribunes,  Benjamin  Constant,  the  friend 
of  Madame  de  Stael,  eloquently  pleaded  against  this  policy 
of  distrust  which  would  reduce  the  Tribunate  to  a  silence 
that  would  'be  heard  by  Mir  ope.  It  was  in  vain.  The 
0^  Vapid  rhetoric  of  the  past  had  infected  France  with  a  fool- 
*/  ish  fear  of  all  free  debate.  The  Tribunate  signed  its  own 
death  warrant ;  and  the  sole  result  of  its  feeble  attempt  at 
opposition  was  that  Madame  de  StaeFs  salon  was  forthwith 
deserted  by  the  Liberals  who  had  there  found  inspiration  ; 
while  the  gifted  authoress  herself  was  officially  requested 
to  retire  into  the  country. 

The  next  act  of  the  central  power  struck  at  freedom  of 
the  press.  As  a  few  journals  ventured  on  witticisms  at 
the  expense  of  the  new  Government,  the  Consuls  or- 
dered the  suppression  of  all  the  political  journals  of 
Paris  except  thirteen ;  and  three  even  of  these  favoured 
papers  were  suppressed  on  April  7th.  The  reason  given 
for  this  despotic  action  was  the  need  of  guiding  public 
opinion  wisely  during  the  war,  and  of  preventing  any  arti- 
cles "  contrary  to  the  respect  due  to  the  social  compact, 
to  the  sovereignty  of  the  people,  and  to  the  glory  of  the 
armies."  By  a  finely  ironical  touch  Rousseau's  doctrine 
of  the  popular  sovereignty  was  thus  invoked  to  sanction 
its  violation.  The  incident  is  characteristic  of  the  whole 
tendency  of  events,  which  showed  that  the  dawn  of  per- 
sonal rule  was  at  hand.  In  fact,  Bonaparte  had  already 
taken  the  bold  step  of  removing  to  the  Tuileries,  and  that 
too,  on  the  very  day  when  he  ordered  public  mourning  for 
the  death  of  Washington  (February  7th).  No  one  but 
the  great  Corsican  would  have  dared  to  brave  the  com- 
ments which  this  coincidence  provoked.  But  he  was 
necessary  to  France,  and  all  men  knew  it.     At  the  first 


220  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap,  x 

sitting  of  the  provisional  Consuls,  Ducos  had  said  to  him : 
^^  It  is  useless  to  vote  about  the  presidence  ;  it  belongs  to 
you  of  right ; "  and,  despite  the  wry  face  pulled  by  Sieyes, 
the  general  at  once  took  the  chair.  Scarcely  less  remark- 
able than  the  lack  of  energy  in  statesmen  was  the  confu- 
sion of  thought  in  the  populace.  Mme.  Reinhard  tells  us 
that  after  the  coup  d'Stat  people  believed  they  had  returned 
to  the  first  days  of  liberty.  What  wonder,  then,  that  the 
one  able  and  strong-willed  man  led  the  helpless  many  and 
re-moulded  Sieyes'  constitution  in  a  fashion  that  was  thus 
happily  parodied :  — 

<*  J'ai,  pour  les  fous,  d*un  Tribunat 
Conserve  la  figure ; 
Pour  les  sots  je  Taisse  ud  S^nat, 
Mais  ce  n*est  qu*en  peinture ; 
A  ce  stupide  magistrat 
Ma  volont^  priside ; 
£t  tout  le  CoDseil  d'Etat 
•  Dans  mou  sabre  reside.'' 


CHAPTER  XI 

MARENGO:   LUN^JVILLE 

Reserving  for  the  next  chapter  a  description  of  the 
new  ciyil  institutions  of  France,  it  will  be  convenient 
now  to  turn  to  foreign  affairs.  Having  arranged  the 
most  urgent  of  domestic  questions,  the  First  Consul  was 
ready  to  encounter  the  forces  of  the  Second  Coalition. 
He  had  already  won  golden  opinions  in  France  by  en- 
deavduring  peacefully  to  dissolve  it.  On  the  25th  of 
December,  1799,  he  sent  two  courteous  letters,  one  to 
George  III.,  the  other  to  the  Emperor  Francis,  proposing 
an  immediate  end  to  the  war.  The  close  of  the  letter  to 
George  III.  has  been  deservedly  admired:  "France  and 
England  by  the  abuse  of  their  strength  may,  for  the  mis- 
fortune of  all  nations,  be  long  in  exhausting  it:  but  I 
venture  to  declare  that  the  fate  of  all  civilized  nations  is 
concerned  in  the  termination  of  a  war  which  kindles  a 
conflagration  over  the  whole  world."  This  noble  senti- 
ment touched  the  imagination  of  France  and  of  friends 
of  peace  everywhere. 

And  yet,  if  the  circumstances  of  the  time  be  considered, 
the  first  agreeable  impressions  aroused  by  the  perusal  of 
this  letter  must  be  clouded  over  by  doubts.  The  First 
Consul  had  just  seized  on  power  by  illegal  and  forcible 
means,  and  there  was  as  yet  little  to  convince  foreign 
States  that  he  would  hold  it  longer  than  the  men  whom 
he  had  displaced.  Moreover,  France  was  in  a  difficult 
position.  Her  treasury  was  empty;  her  army  in  Italy 
was  being  edged  into  the  narrow  coast-line  near  Genoa ; 
and  her  orientjed  forces  were  shut  up  in  their  new  conquest. 
Were  not  the  appeals  to  Austria  and  England  merely  a 
skilful  device  to  gain  time?  Did  his  past  career  in  Italy 
and  Egypt  warrant  the  belief  that  he  would  abandon  the 
peninsula  and  the  new  colony  ?    Could  the  man  who  had 

221 


222  THE   LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

bartered  away  Venetia  and  seized  Malta  and  Egypt  be 
fitly  looked  upgn  as  the  world's  peacemaker?  In  diplo- 
macy men's  words  are  interpreted  by  their  past  conduct 
and  present  circumstances,  neither  of  which  tended  to 
produce  confidence  in  Bonaparte's  pacific  overtures;  and 
neither  Francis  nor  George  III.  looked  on  the  present 
attempt  as  anything  but  a  skilful  means  of  weakening 
the  Coalition. 

Indeed,  that  league  was,  for  various  reasons,  all  but  dis- 
solved by  internal  dissensions.  Austria  was  resolved  to 
keep  all  the  eastern  part  of  Piedmont  and  the  greater  part 
of  the  Genoese  Republic.  While  welcoming  the  latter  half 
of  this  demand,  George  III.'s  Ministers  protested  against 
the  absorption  of  so  great  a  part  of  Piedmont  as  an  act 
of  cruel  injustice  to  the  King  of  Sardinia.  Austria  was 
annoyed  at  the  British  remonstrances  and  was  indignant 
at  the  designs  of  the  Czar  on  Corsica.  Accordingly  no 
time  could  have  been  better  chosen  by  Bonaparte  for  seek- 
ing to  dissolve  the  Coalition,  as  he  certainly  hoped  to  do 
by  these  two  letters.  Only  the  staunch  support  of  legiti- 
mist claims  by  England  then  prevented  the  Coalition  from 
degenerating  into  a  scramble  for  Italian  territories.*  And, 
if  we  may  trust  the  verdict  of  contemporaries  and  his  own 
confession  at  St.  Helena,  Bonaparte  never  expected  any 
other  result  from  these  letters  than  an  increase  of  his  popu- 
larity in  France.  This  was  enhanced  by  the  British  reply, 
which  declared  that  His  Majesty  could  not  place  his  re- 
liance on  "  general  professions  of.  pacific  dispositions  "  : 
France  had  waged  aggressive  war,  levied  exactions,  and 
overthrown  institutions  in  neighbouring  States;  and  the 
British  Government  could  not  as  yet  discern  any  abandon- 
ment of  this  system  :  something  more  was  required  for  a 
durable  peace :  "  The  best  and  most  natural  pledge  of  its 
reality  and  permanence  would  be  the  restoration  of  that 
line  of  princes  which  for  so  many  centuries  maintained 
the  French  nation  in  prosperity  at  home  and  in  considera- 
tion and  respect  abroad."  This  answer  has  been  sharply 
criticised,  and  justly  so,  if  its  influence  on  public  opinion 

1  "F.  O.,"  Austria,  No.  58;  **  Castlereagh*s  Despatches,"  v.  ad  init. 
Bovnnan,  in  his  excellent  monograph,  ^'Preliminary  Stages  of  the  Peace 
of  Amiens  "  (Toronto,  1809),  has  not  noted  thi& 


XI  MARENGO:  LUK^VILLE  223 

be  alone  considered.  But  a  perusal  of  the  British  Foreign 
Office  Records  reveals  the  reason  for  the  use  of  these  stiffly 
legitimist  claims.  Legitimacy  alone  promised  to  stop  the 
endless  shiftings  of  the  political  kaleidoscope,  whether  by 
France,  Austria,  or  Russia.  Our  ambassador  at  Vienna 
was  requested  to  inform  the  Government  of  Vienna  of  the 
exact  wording  of  the  British  reply : 

''As  a  proof  of  the  zeal  and  steadiness  with  which  His  Majesty 
adheres  to  the  principles  of  the  Confederac^r,  and  as  a  testimony  of 
the  confidence  with  which  he  anticipates  a  similar  answer  from  His 
Imperial  Majesty,  to  whom  an  oyertore  of  a  similar  nature  has  with- 
out doubt  been  muade." 

But  this  correct  conduct,  while  admirably  adapted  to 
prop  up  the  tottering  Coalition,  was  equally  favourable 
to  the  consolidation  of  Bonaparte's  power.  It  helped  to 
band  together  the  French  people  to  resist  the  imposition 
of  their  exiled  royal  house  by  external  force.  Even 
George  III.  thought  it  "much  too  strong,"  though  he 
suggested  no  alteration.  At  once  Bonaparte  retorted  in 
a  m^terly  note ;  he  ironically  presumed  that  His  Britan- 
nic Majesty  admitted  the  right  of  nations  to  choose  their 
form  of  government,  since  only  by  that  right  did  he  wear 
the  British  crown;  and  he  invited  him  not  to  apply  to 
other  peoples  a  principle  which  would  recall  the  Stuarts 
to  the  throne  of  Great  Britain. 

Bonaparte's  diplomatic  game  was  completely  won  dur- 
ing the  debates  on  the  King's  speech  at  Westminster  at  the 
close  of  January,  1800.  Lord  Grenville  laboriously  proved 
that  peace  was  impossible  with  a  nation  whose  war  was 
against  all  order,  religion,  and  morality ;  and  he  cited  ex- 
amples of  French  lawlessness  from  Holland  and  Switzer- 
land to  Malta  and  Egypt.  Pitt  declared  that  the  French 
Revolution  was  the  severest  trial  which  Providence  had 
ever  yet  inflicted  on  the  nations  of  the  earth ;  and,  claim- 
ing that  there  was  no  security  in  negotiating  with  France, 
owing  to  her  instability,  he  summed  up  his  case  in  the 
Ciceronian  phrase :  Pacem  nolo  quia  infida.  Ministers 
carried  the  day  by  260  votes  to  64 ;  but  they  ranged  nearly 
the  whole  of  France  on  the  side  of  the  First  Consul.  No 
triumph  in  the  field  was  worth  more  to  him  than  these 


224  THE  LIFB  OS  NAPOLEON  I  chu*. 

Philippics,  which  seemed  to  challenge  France  to  build  op 
a  strong  Government  in  order  that  the  Court  of  St.  James 
might  find  some  firm  foundation  for  future  negotiations. 

Far  more  dextrous  was  the  conduct  of  the  Austrian 
diplomatists.  Affecting  to  believe  in  the  sincerity  of  the 
First  ConsuFs  proposal  for  peace,  they  so  worded  their 
note  as  to  draw  from  him  a  reply  that  he  was  prepared 
to  discuss  terms  of  peace  on  the  basis  of  the  Treaty  of 
Campo  Formio.^  As  Austria  had  since  then  conquered 
the  greater  part  of  Italy,  Bonaparte's  reply  immediately 
revealed  his  determination  to  reassert  French  supremacy 
in  Italy  and  the  Rhineland.  The  action  of  the  Courts  of 
Vienna  and  London  was  not  unlike  that  of  the  sun  and 
the  wind,  in  the  proverbial  saw.  Viennese  suavity  in- 
duced Bonaparte  to  take  off  his  coat  and  show  himself 
as  he  really  was:  while  the  conscientious  bluster  of 
Grenville  and  Pitt  made  the  First  Consul  button  up  his 
coat,  and  pose  as  the  buffeted  peacemaker. 

The  allies  had  ^ood  grounds  for  confidence.  Though 
Russia  had  withdrawn  from  the  Second  Coalition,  yet 
the  Austrians  continued  their  victorious  advance  in  Italy. 
In  April,  1800,  they  severed  the  French  forces  near 
Savona,  driving  back  Suchet's  corps  towards  Nice,  while 
the  other  was  gradually  hemmed  in  behind  the  redoubts 
of  Genoa.  There  the  Imperialist  advance  was  stoutly 
stayed.  Massena,  ably  seconded  by  Oudinot  and  Soult, 
who  now  gained  their  first  laurels  as  generals,  maintained 
a  most  obstinate  resistance,  defving  alike  the  assaults 
of  the  white-coats,  the  bombs  hurled  by  the  English 
squadron,  and  the  deadlier  inroads  of  famine  and  sick- 
ness. The  garrison  dwindled  by  degrees  to  less  than 
10,000  effectives,  but  they  kept  double  the  number  of 
Austrians  there,  while  Bonaparte  was  about  to  strike  a 
terrible  blow  against  their  rear  and  that  of  Melas  further 
west.  It  was  for  this  that  the  First  Consul  urged  Massena 
to  hold  out  at  Genoa  to  the  last  extremity,  and  nobly  was 
the  order  obeyed. 

Suchet  meanwhile  defended  the  line  of  the  River  Var 
against  Melas.     In  Germany,  Moreau  with  his  larger  forces 

i"Nap.  Correspond.,"  February  27th,  1800;  Thugut,  "Briefe,"  Tol. 
iL,  pp.  444-446  ;  Oncken,  '*Zeitalter,"  voL  it,  p.  45. 


zi  MARENGO:  LUN^VILLE  226 

slowly  edged  back  the  chief  Austrian  army,  that  of 
General  Kray,  from  the  defiles  of  the  Black  Forest,  com- 
pelling it  to  fall  back  on  the  intrenched  camp  at  Ulm. 

On  their  side,  the  Austrians  strove  to  compel  Massena 
to  a  speedy  surrender,  and  then  with  a  large  force  to 
press  on  into  Nice,  Provence,  and  possibly  Savoy,  sur- 
rounding Suchet's  force,  and  rousing  the  French  royalists 
of  the  south  to  a  general  insurrection.  They  also  had 
the  promise  of  the  help  of  a  British  force,  which  was  to 
be  landed  at  some  point  on  the  coast  and  take  Suchet  in 
the  flank  or  rear.^  Such  was  the  plan,  daring  in  outline 
and  promising  great  things,  provided  that  everything 
went  well.  If  Massena  surrendered,  if  the  British  War 
Office  and  Admiralty  worked  up  to  time,  if  the  winds 
were  favourable,  and  if  the  French  royalists  again  ven- 
tured on  a  revolt,  then  France  would  be  crippled,  perhaps 
conquered.  As  for  the  French  occupation  of  Switzer- 
land and  Moreau's  advance  into  Swabia,  that  was  not  to 
prevent  the  prosecution  of  the  original  Austrian  plan 
of  advancing  against  Provence  and  wresting  Nice  and 
Savoy  from  the  French  grasp.  This  scheme  has  been 
criticised  as  if  it  were  based  solely  on  military  considera- 
tions ;  but  it  was  rather  dictated  by  schemes  of  political 
aggrandizement.  The  conquest  of  Nice  and  Savoy  was 
necessary  to  complete  the  ambitious  schemes  of  the 
Hapsburgs,  who  sought  to  gain  a  large  part  of  Piedmont 
at  the  expense  of  the  King  of  Sardinia,  and  after  conquer- 
ing Savoy  and  Nice,  to  thrust  that  unfortunate  king  to 
the  utmost  verge  of  the  peninsula,  which  the  prowess  of 
his  descendants  has  ultimately  united  under  the  Italian 
tricolour. 

The  allied  plan  sinned  against  one  of  the  elementary 
rules  of  strategy ;  it  exposed  a  large  force  to  a  blow  from 
the  rear,  namely,  from  Switzerland.     The  importance  of 

^  A  Foreign  Office  despatch,  dated  Downing  Street,  February  8th,  1800, 
to  Vienna,  promised  a  loan  and  that  15,000  or  20,000  British  troops  should 
be  employed  in  the  Mediterranean  to  act  in  concert  with  the  Austrians 
there,  and  to  give  "support  to  the  royalist  insurrections  in  the  south- 
ern proTinces  of  France."  No  differences  of  opinion  respecting  Piedmont 
can  be  held  a  sufficient  excuse  for  the  failure  of  Uie  British  Government 
to  fulfil  this  promise  —  a  failure  which  contributed  to  the  disaster  at 
Marengo. 


226  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

this  immensely  strong  central  position  early  attracted 
Bonaparte's  attention.  On  the  17th  of  March  he  called 
his  secretary,  Bourrienne  (so  the  latter  states),  and  lay 
down  with  him  on  a  *  map  of  Piedmont :  then,  placing 
pins  tipped,  some  with  red,  others  with  black  wax,  so  as 
to  denote  the  positions  of  the  troops,  he  asked  him  to 
guess  where  the  French  woald  beat  their  foes : 

^^How  the  deyil  should  I  know?"  said  Boarrienne.  ''Why,  look 
here,  you  fool,"  said  the  First  Consul :  '*  Melas  is  at  Alessandria  with 
his  headquarters.  There  he  will  remain  until  Grenoa  surrenders.  He 
has  at  Alessandria  his  magazines,  his  hospitals,  his  artillery,  his  re- 
serves. Crossing  the  Alps  here  (at  the  Great  St.  Bernard),  I  shall 
fall  upon  Melas,  cut  off  his  communications  with  Austria,  and  meet 
him  here  in  the  plains  of  the  River  Scrivia  at  San  Giuliano." 

I  quote  this  passage  as  showing  how  readily  such 
stories  of  ready-made  plans  gain  credence,  untu  they 
come  to  be  tested  by  Napoleon's  correspondence.  There 
we  find  no  strategic  soothsaying,  but  only  a  close  watch- 
ing of  events  as  they  develop  day  by  day.  In  March  and 
April  he  kept  urging  on  Moreau  the  need  of  an  early 
advance,  while  he  considered  the  advantages  offered  by 
the  St.  Gotthard,  Simplon,  and  Great  St.  Bernard  passes 
for  his  own  army.  On  April  27th  he  decided  against  the 
first  (except  for  a  detachment),  because  Moreau's  advance 
was  too  slow  to  safeguard  his  rear  on  that  route.  He  now 
preferred  the  Great  St.  Bernard,  but  still  doubted  whether, 
after  crossing,  he  should  make  for  Milan,  or  strike  at 
Massena'S  besiegers,  in  case  that  general  should  be  very 
hard  pressed.  Like  all  great  commanders,  he  started  with 
a  general  plan,  but  he  arranged  the  details  as  the  situation 
required.  In  his  letter  of  May  19th,  he  poured  scorn  on 
Parisian  editors  who  said  he  prophesied  that  in  a  month 
he  would  be  at  Milan.  "That  is  not  in  my  character. 
Very  often  I  do  not  say  what  I  know  ;  but  never  do  I  say 
what  will  be." 

The  better  to  hide  his  purpose,  he  chose  as  his  first 
base  of  operations  the  city  of  Dijon,  whence  he  seemed  to 
threaten  either  the  Swabian  or  the  Italian  army  of  his 
foes.  But  this  was  not  enough.  At  the  old  Burgundian 
capital  he  assembled  his  staff  and  a  few  regiments  of  con- 
scripts in  order  to  mislead  the  English  and  Austrian 


s  1 

^    9 


zi  MARENGO:  LUN£VILLE  227 

spies ;  while  the  fighting  battalions  were  drafted  by  di- 
verse routes  to  Geneva  or  Lausanne.  So  skilful  were 
these  preparations  that,  in  the  early  days  of  May,  the 
greater  part  of  his  men  and  stores  were  near  the  lake  of 
Genevsi,  whence  they  were  easily  transferred  to  the  upper 
valley  of  the  Rhone.  In'  order  that  he  might  have  a 
methodical,  hard-working  coadjutor,  he  sent  Berthier 
from  the  office  of  the  Ministry  of  War,  where  he  had  dis- 
played less  ability  than  Bernadotte,  to  be  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  "army  of  reserve."  In  reality  Berthier  was, 
as  before  in  Italy  and  Egypt,  chief  of  the  staff ;  but  he 
had  the  titular  dignity  of  commander  which  the  constitu- 
tion of  1800  forbade  the  First  Consul  to  assume. 

On  May  6th  Bonaparte  left  Paris  for  Geneva,  where 
he  felt  the  pulse  of  every  movement  in  both  campaigns. 
At  that  city,  on  hearing  the  report  of  his  general  of 
engineers,  he  decided  to  take  the  Great  St.  Bernard  route 
into  Italy,  as  against  the  Simplon.  With  redoubled 
energy,  he  now  supervised  the  thousands  of  details  that 
were  needed  to  insure  success :  for,  while  prone  to  in- 
dulging in  grandiose  schemes,  he  revelled  in  the  work 
which  alone  could  bring  them  within  his  grasp :  or,  as 
Wellington  once  remarked,  "  Nothing  was  too  great  or 
too  sm^l  for  his  proboscis."  The  difficulties  of  sending 
a  large  army  over  the  Great  St.  Bernard  were  indeed 
immense.  That  pass  was  chosen  because  it  presented 
only  five  leagues  of  ground  impracticable  for  carriages. 
But  those  five  leagues  tested  tne  utmost  powers  of  the 
army  and  of  its  chiefs.  Marmont,  who  commanded  the 
artillery,  had  devised  the  ingenious  plan  of  taking  the  can- 
non from  their  carriages  and  placing  them  in  the  hoUowed- 
out  trunks  of  pine,  so  that  the  trunnions  fitting  into  large 
notches  kept  them  steady  during  the  ascent  over  the  snow 
and  the  still  more  difficult  descent.  ^  The  labour  of  dragging 
the  guns  wore  out  the  peasants  ;  then  the  troops  were  in- 
vited— a  hundred  at  a  time — to  take  a  turn  at  the  ropes, 
and  were  exhilarated  by  martial  airs  played  by  the  bands, 
or  by  bugles  and  drums  sounding  the  charge  at  the  worst 
places  of  the  ascent. 

1  Thiers  attxibutes  this  device  to  Bonaparte ;  but  the  First  Consal^s 
tmlletin  of  May  24th  aflcribes  it  to  Marmont  and  Gassendi. 


228  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

The  track  sometimes  ran  along  narrow  ledges  where  a 
false  step  meant  death,  or  where  avalanches  were  to  be 
feared.  The  elements,  however,  were  propitious,  and  the 
losses  insignificant.  This  was  due  to  many  causes :  the 
ardour  of  the  troops  in  an  enterprise  which  appealed  to 
French  imagination  and  roused  all  their  activities  ;  the 
friendliness  of  the  mountaineers ;  and  the  organizing 
powers  of  Bonaparte  and  of  his  staff ;  all  these  mav  be 
cited  as  elements  of  success.  They  present  a  striking 
contrast  to  the  march  of  Hannibal's  army  over  one  of  the 
western  passes  of  the  Alps.  His  motlev  host  struggled 
over  a  long  stretch  of  mountains  in  the  short  days  of  Oc- 
tober over  unknown  paths,  in  one  part  swept  away  by  a 
fall  of  the  cliff,  and  ever  and  anon  beset  by  clouds  of 
treacherous  Gauls.  Seeing  that  the  great  Carthaginian's 
difficulties  began  long  before  he  reached  the  Alps,  that  he 
was  encumbered  by  elephants,  and  that  his  army  was  com- 
posed of  diverse  races  held  together  only  by  trust  in  the 
prowess  of  their  chief,  his  exploit  was  far  more  wonderful 
than  that  of  Bonaparte,  which,  indeed,  more  nearly  resem- 
bles the  crossing  of  the  St.  Bernard  by  Francis  I.  in  1515. 
The  difference  between  the  conditions  of  HannibaFs  and 
Bonaparte's  enterprises  may  partly  be  measured  by  the 
time  which  they  occupied.  Whereas  Hannibal's  march 
across  the  Alps  lasted  fifteen  days,  three  of  which  were 
spent  in  the  miseries  of  a  forced  halt  amidst  the  snow,  the 
First  Consul's  forces  took  but  seven  days.  Whereas  the 
Carthaginian  army  was  weakened  by  hunger,  the  French 
carried  their  full  rations  of  biscuit ;  and  at  the  head  of  the 
pass  the  monks  of  the  Hospice  of  St.  Bernard  served  out 
the  rations  of  bread,  cheese,  and  wine  which  the  First  Con- 
sul had  forwarded,  and  which  their  own  generosity  now 
doubled.  The  hospitable  fathers  themselves  served  at  the 
tables  set  up  in  front  of  the  Hospice. 

After  insuring  the  regular  succession  of  troops  and 
stores,  Bonaparte  himself  began  the  ascent  on  May  20th. 
He  wore  the  gray  overcoat  which  had  already  become  fa- 
mous ;  and  his  features  were  fixed  in  that  expression  of 
calm  self-possession  which  he  ever  maintained  in  face  of 
difficulty.  The  melodramatic  attitudes  of  horse  and  rider, 
which  David  has  immortalized  in  his  great  painting,  are,  of 


XI  MARENGO:  LUN^VILLB  229 

course,  merely  symbolical  of  the  genius  of  militant  democ- 
racy prancing  over  natural  obstacles  and  wafted  onwards 
and  upwards  by  the  breath  of  victory.  The  living  figure 
was  remarkable  only  for  stern  self-restraint  and  suppressed 
excitement ;  instead  of  the  prancing  war-horse  limned  by 
David,  his  beast  of  burden  was  a  mule,  led  by  a  peasant ; 
and,  in  place  of  victory,  he  had  heard  that  Lannes  with 
the  vanguard  had  found  an  unexpected  obstacle  to  his  de- 
scent into  Italy.  The  narrow  valley  of  the  Dora  Baltea, 
by  which  alone  they  could  advance,  was  wellnigh  blocked 
by  the  fort  of  Bard,  which  was  firmly  held  by  a  small  x\us- 
trian  garrison  and  defied  all  the  efforts  of  Lannes  and 
Berthier.  This  was  the  news  that  met  the  First  Consul 
during  his  ascent,  and  again  at  the  Hospice.  After  accept- 
ing the  hospitality  of  the  monks,  and  spending  a  short  time 
in  the  library  and  chapel,  he  resumed  his  journey ;  and 
on  the  southern  slopes  he  and  his  staff  now  and  again 
amused  themselves  by  sliding  down  the  tracks  which  the 
passage  of  thousands  of  men  had  rendered  slippery.  After 
halting  at  Aosta,  he  proceeded  down  the  valley  to  the  fort 
of  Bard. 

Meanwhile  some  of  his  foot-soldiers  had  worked  their 
way  round  this  obstacle  by  a  goat-track  among  the  hills 
and  had  already  reached  Ivrea  lower  down  the  valley. 
Still  the  fort  held  out  against  the  cannonade  of  the 
French.  Its  commanding  position  seemed  to  preclude  all 
hope  of  getting  the  artillery  past  it ;  and  without  artil- 
lery the  First  Consul  could  not  hope  for  success  in  the 
plains  of  Piedmont.  Unable  to  capture  the  fort,  he  be- 
thought him  of  hurrying  by  night  the  now  remounted 
guns  under  the  cover  of  the  houses  of  the  village.  For 
this  purpose  he  caused  the  main  street  to  be  strewn  with 
straw  and  dung,  while  the  wheels  of  the  cannon  were  cov- 
ered over  so  as  to  make  little  noise.  They  were  then 
dragged  quietly  through  the  village  almost  within  pistol 
shot  of  the  garrison  :  nevertheless,  the  defenders  took 
alarm,  and,  firing  with  musketry  and  grenades,  exploded 
some  ammunition  wagons  and  inflicted  other  losses ;  yet 
40  guns  and  100  wagons  were  got  past  the  fort. 

How  this  unfailing  resource  contrasts  with  the  heed- 
less behaviour  of  the  enemy !     Had  they  speedily  rein- 


230  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

forced  their  detachment  at  Bard,  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that  Bonaparte's  movements  could  have  been  seriously 
hampered.  But,  up  to  May  21st,  Melas  was  ignorant 
that  his  distant  rear  was  being  assailed,  and  the  3,000 
Austrians  who  guarded  the  vale  of  the  Dora  Baltea  were 
divided,  part  being  at  Bard  and  others  at  Ivrea.  The 
latter  place  was  taken  by  a  rush  of  Lannes'  troops  on 
May  22nd,  and  Bard  was  blockaded  by  part  of  the 
French  rearguard. 

Bonaparte's  army,  if  the  rearguard  be  included,  num- 
bered 41,000  men.  Meanwhile,  farther  east,  a  French 
force  of  16,000  men,  drawn  partly  from  Moreau's  army 
and  led  by  Moncey,  was  crossing  the  St.  Gotthard  pass 
and  began  to  drive  back  the  Austrian  outposts  in  the 
upper  valley  of  the  Ticino ;  and  5,000  men,  marching 
over  the  Mont  Cenis  pass,  threatened  Turin  from  the 
west.  The  First  Consul's  aim  now  was  to  unite  the  two 
chief  forces,  seize  the  enemy's  magazines,  and  compel  him 
to  a  complete  surrender.  This  daring  resolve  took  shape 
at  Aosta  on  the  24th,  when  he  heard  that  Melas  was,  on 
the  19th,  still  at  Nice,  unconscious  of  his  doom.  The 
chance  of  ending  the  war  at  one  blow  was  not  to  be 
missed,  even  if  Massena  had  to  shift  for  himself. 

But  already  Melas'  dream  of  triumph  had  vanished. 
On  the  21st,  hearing  the  astonishing  news  that  a  large 
force  had  crossed  the  St.  Bernard,  he  left  18,000  men  to 
oppose  Suchet  on  the  Var,  and  hurried  back  with  the 
remainder  to  Turin.  At  the  Piedmontese  capital  he 
heard  that  he  had  to  deal  with  the  First  Consul ;  but  not 
until  the  last  day  of  May  did  he  know  that  Moncey  was 
forcing  the  St.  Gotthard  and  threatening  Milan.  Then, 
realizing  the  full  extent  of  his  danger,  he  hastily  called  in 
all  the  available  troops  in  order  to  fight  his  way  throug^h 
to  Mantua.  He  even  sent  an  express  to  the  besiegers  of 
Genoa  to  retire  on  Alessandria ;  but  negotiations  had 
been  opened  with  Massena  for  the  surrender  of  that 
stronghold,  and  the  opinion  of  Lord  Keith,  the  English 
admiral,  decided  the  Austrian  commander  there  to  press 
the  siege  to  the  very  end.  The  city  was  in  the  airest 
straits.  Horses,  dogs,  cats,  and  rats  were  at  last  eagerly 
sought  as  food :  and  at  every  sortie  crowds  of  the  starv- 


XI  MARENGO:  LUN&VILLE  281 

ing  inhabitants  followed  the  French  in  order  to  cut  down 
grasS)  nettles,  and  leaves,  which  they  then  boiled  with 
salt.^  A  revolt  threatened  by  the  wretched  townsfolk 
was  averted  by  Massena  ordering  his  troops  to  fire  on 
every  gathering  of  more  than  four  men.  At  last,  on 
Jane  4th,  with  8,000  half-starved  soldiers  he  marched 
through  the  Austrian  posts  with  the  honours  of  war. 
The  stem  warrior  would  not  hear  of  the  word  surrender 
or  capitulation.  He  merely  stated  to  the  allied  com- 
manders that  on  June  4th  his  troops  would  evacuate 
Genoa  or  clear  their  path  by  the  bayonet. 

Bonaparte  has  been  reproached  for  not  marching  at 
once  to  succour  Massena  :  the  charge  of  desertion  was 
brought  by  Massena  and  Thiebault,  and  has  been  driven 
home  by  Lanf rey  with  his  usual  skill.  It  will,  however, 
scarcely  bear  a  close  examination.  The  Austrians,  at  the 
first  trustworthy  news  of  the  French  inroads  into  Pied- 
mont and  Lombardy,  were  certain  to  concentrate  either  at 
Turin  or  Alessandria.  Indeed,  Melas  was  already  near 
Turin,  and  would  have  fallen  on  the  First  Consul's  flank 
had  the  latter  marched  due  south  towards  Genoa.^  Such 
a  march,  with  only  40,000  men,  would  have  been  perilous  : 
and  it  could  at  most  only  have  rescued  a  now  reduced  and 
almost  famishing  garrison.  Besides,  he  very  naturally 
expected  the  besiegers  of  Genoa  to  retreat  now  that  their 
rear  was  threatened. 

Sound  policy  and  a  desire  to  deal  a  dramatic  stroke 
spurred  on  the  First  Consul  to  a  more  daring  and  effec- 
tive plan  ;  to  clear  Lombardy  of  the  Imperialists  and  seize 
their  stores ;  then,  after  uniting  with  Moncey's  16,000 
troops,  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  all  the  Austrian  forces 
west  of  Milan. 

Oct  entering  Milan  he  was  greeted  with  wild  acclaim 
by  the  partisans  of  France  (June  2nd)  ;  they  extolled  the 
energy  and  foresight  that  brought  two  armies,  as  it  were 

iMarbot,  **Mems./*  ch.  ix.;  Allardyce,  **  Memoir  of  Lord  Keith,'* 
cb.  xiii.;  Thi6baalt*8  **  Journal  of  the  Blockade  of  Genoa." 

*  That  Melas  expected  each  a  march  is  clear  from  a  letter  of  his  of  May 
23rd,  dated  from  Savillan,  to  Lord  Keith,  which  I  have  fomid  in  the 
"  Brit.  Admiralty  Records  *'  (Mediterranean,  No.  22),  where  he  says  : 
**  L*ennemi  a  cem^  le  fort  de  Bard  et  s'est  avanc^  jusque  sons  le  chAteau 
d'Ivr6e.     li  est  clair  que  son  but  est  de  d^livrer  Massena.*' 


28S  THE  UFB  OF  NAFOLBON  I  ohaf. 

down  from  the  clouds,  to  confoond  their  oppressors. 
Numbers  of  men  connected  with  the  Cisalpine  Kepublic 
had  been  proscribed,  banished,  or  imprisoned  by  the 
Austrians ;  and  their  friends  now  haUed  him  as  the 
restorer  of  their  republic.  The  First  Consul  spent  seven 
days  in  selecting  the  men  who  were  to  rebuild  the  Cisal- 
pine State,  in  beating  back  the  eastern  forces  of  Austria 
beyond  the  River  Adda,  and  in  organizing  his  troops  and 
those  of  Moncey  for  the  final  blow.  The  military  prob- 
lems, indeed,  demanded  great  care  and  judgment.  His 
position  was  curiously  the  reverse  of  that  which  he  had 
occupied  in  1796.  Then  the  French  held  Tortona,  Ales- 
sandria, and  Valenza,  and  sought  to  drive  back  the  Aus- 
trians to  the  walls  of  Mantua.  Now  the  Imperialists, 
holding  nearly  the  same  positions,  were  striving  to  break 
through  the  i  rench  lines  which  cut  them  off  from  that 
city  of  refuge ;  and  Bonaparte,  having  forces  slightly 
inferior  to  his  opponents,  felt  the  difficulty  of  frustrating 
their  escape. 

Three  routes  were  open  to  Melas.  The  most  direct  was 
by  way  of  Tortona  and  Piacenza  along  the  southern  bank 
of  the  Po,  through  the  difficult  defile  of  Stradella  :  or  he 
might  retire  towards  Genoa,  across  the  Apennines,  and 
regain  Mantua  by  a  dash  across  the  Modenese :  or  he 
might  cross  the  Po  at  Valenza  and  the  Ticino  near  Pavia* 
All  these  roads  had  to  be  watched  by  the  French  as  they 
cautiously  drew  towards  their  quarry.  Bonaparte's  first 
move  was  to  send  Murat  with  a  considerable  body  of 
troops  to  seize  Piacenza  and  to  occupy  the  defile  of  Stra^ 
della.  These  important  posts  were  wrested  from  the 
Austrian  vanguard  ;  and  this  success  was  crowned  on 
June  9th  by  General  Lannes'  brilliant  victory  at  Monte- 
bello  over  a  superior  Austrian  force  marching  from  Genoa 
towards  Piacenza,  which  he  drove  back  towards  Alessan- 
dria. Smaller  bodies  of  French  were  meanwhile  watch- 
ing the  course  of  the  Ticino,  and  others  seized  the 
magazines  of  the  enemy  at  Cremona. 

After  gaining  precious  news  as  to  Melas*  movements 
from  an  intercepted  despatch,  Bonaparte  left  Milan  on 
June  9th,  and  proceeded  to  Stradella.  There  he  waited 
for  news  of  Suchet  and  Massena  from  the  side  of  Savona 


zi  IfARENGO:  LUN^VILLE  888 

and  Ceva  ;  for  their  forces,  if  united,  might  complete  the 
circle  which  he  was  drawing  around  the  Imperialists.^ 
He  hoped  that  Massena  would  have  joined  Suchet  near 
Savona ;  but  owing  to  various  circumstances,  for  which 
Massena  was  in  no  wise  to  blame,  their  junction  was 
delayed ;  and  Suchet,  though  pressing  on  towards  Acqui, 
was  unable  to  cut  off  the  Austrian  retreat  on  Genoa. 
Yet  he  so  harassed  the  corps  opposed  to  him  in  its  retreat 
from  Nice  that  onlv  about  8,000  Austrians  joined  Melas 
from  that  quarter.^ 

Doubtless,  Melas'  best  course  would  still  have  been  to 
make  a  dash  for  Genoa  and  trust  to  the  English  ships. 
But  this  plan  galled  the  pride  of  the  general,  who  had 
culled  plenteous  laurels  in  Italy  until  the  approach  of 
Bonaparte  threatened  to  snatch  the  whole  chaplet  from 
his  brow.  He  and  his  staff  sought  to  restore  their  droop- 
ing fortunes  by  a  bold  rush  against  the  ring  of  foes  that 
were  closing  around.  Never  has  an  effort  of  this  kind 
so  nearly  succeeded  and  yet  so  wholly  failed. 

The  First  Consul,  believing  that  the  Austrians  were 
bent  solely  on  flight,  advanced  from  Stradella,  where  suc- 
cess would  have  been  certain,  into  the  plains  of  Tortona, 
whence  he  could  check  any  move  of  theirs  southwards  on 
Genoa.  But  now  the  space  which  he  occupied  was  so 
great  as  to  weaken  his  line  at  any  one  point ;  while  his 
foes  had  the  advantage  of  the  central  position.  Bona- 
parte was  also  forced  to  those  enveloping  tactics  which 
had  so  often  proved  fatal  to  the  Austrians  four  years 
previously ;  and  this  curious  reversal  of  his  usual  tactics 

1  Bonaparte  did  not  leave  Milan  till  June  9th :  see  **  Correspondance  " 
and  the  bulletin  of  June  10th.  Jomini  places  his  departure  for  the  7th, 
and  thereby  confuses  his  description  for  these  two  days.  Thiers  dates  it 
on  June  8th. 

•Lord  W.  Bentinck  reported  to  the  Brit.  Admiralty  (♦* Records,'^ 
Meditn.,  No.  22),  from  Alessandria,  on  June  15th  :  **  I  am  sorry  to  say 
that  General  Elsnitz's  corps,  which  was  composed  of  the  grenadiers  of  the 
finest  regiments  in  the  (Austrian)  army,  arrived  here  in  the  most  deplor- 
able condition.  His  men  had  already  suffered  much  from  want  of  provi- 
sions and  other  hardships.  He  was  pursued  in  his  retreat  by  Genl.  Suchet, 
who  had  with  him  about  7,000  men.  There  was  an  action  at  Ponte  di 
Nava,  in  which  the  French  failed ;  and  it  will  appear  scarcely  credible, 
when  I  tell  your  Lordship,  that  the  Austrians  lost  in  this  retreat,  from 
fatigue  only,  near  6,000  men ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  Genl.  Suchet  will 
notify  this  to  the  world  as  a  great  victory." 


234  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap,  zi 

may  account  for  the  anxiety  which  he  betrayed  aa  he 
moved  towards  Marengo.  He  had,  however,  recently 
been  encouraged  by  the  arrival  of  Desaix  from  Paris 
after  his  return  from  E^ypt.  This  dashinsf  officer  and 
noble  man  inspired  him  with  a  sincere  affection,  as  was 
seen  by  the  three  hours  of  eager  converse  which  he  held 
with  him  on  his  arrival,  as  also  by  his  words  to  Bour- 
rienne :  ^^  He  is  quite  an  antique  character."  Desaix  with 
5,300  troops  was  now  despatched  on  the  night  of  June  13th 
towards  Genoa  to  stop  the  escape  of  the  Austrians  in  that 
direction.  This  eccentric  move  has  been  severely  criti- 
cised :  but  the  facts,  as  then  known  by  Bonaparte,  seemed 
to  show  that  Melas  was  about  to  march  on  Grenoa.  The 
French  vanguard  under  Gardane  had  in  the  afternoon 
easily  driven  the  enemy's  front  from  the  village  of  Ma- 
rengo ;  and  Gardane  had  even  reported  that  there  was 
no  bridge  over  the  River  Bormida  by  which  the  enemy 
could  debouch  into  the  plain  of  Marengo.  Marmont, 
pushing  on  later  in  the  evening,  had  discovered  that  there 
was  at  least  one  well-defended  bridge ;  and  when  early 
next  morning  Gardane*s  error  was  known,  the  First  Con- 
sul, with  a  blaze  of  passion  against  the  offender,  sent  a 
courier  in  hot  haste  to  recall  Desaix.  Long  before  he 
could  arrive,  the  battle  of  Marengo  had  begun :  and  for 
the  greater  part  of  that  eventful  day,  June  the  14th,  the 
French  had  only  18,000  men  wherewith  to  oppose  the 
onset  of  31,000  Austrians.^ 

As  will  be  seen  by  the  accompanying  map,  the  village 
of  Marengo  lies  in  the  plain  that  stretches  eastwards  from 
the  banks  of  the  River  Bormida  towards  the  hilly  country 
of  Stradella.  The  village  lies  on  the  high-road  leading 
eastwards  from  the  fortress  of  Alessandria,  the  chief 
stronghold  of  north-western  Italy.  The  plain  is  cut  up 
by  numerous  obstacles.  Through  Marengo  runs  a  stream 
called  the  Fontanone.  The  deep  curves  of  the  Bormida, 
the  steep  banks  of  the  Fontanone,  along  with  the  villages, 

^  The  inaccuracy  of  Marbot*8  **  Mtooires  *^  is  nowhere  more  glaring 
than  in  his  statement  that  Marengo  must  have  gone  against  the  French 
if  Ott's  26,000  Austrians  from  Genoa  had  joined  their  comrades.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  Ott,  with  16,000  men,  had  already  fought  with  Lannes  at 
Montebello,  and  played  a  great  part  in  the  battle  of  Marengo. 


236  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chjlF. 

farmsteads,  and  vineyards  scattered  over  the  plain,  all 
helped  to  render  an  advance  exceedingly  difficult  in  face 
of  a  determined  enemy ;  and  these  natural  features  had 
no  small  share  in  deciding  the  fortunes  of  the  day. 

Shortly  after  dawn  Melas  began  to  pour  his  troops 
across  the  Bormida,  and  drove  in  the  French  outposts  on 
Marengo:  but  there  they  met  with  a  tough  resistance 
from  the  soldiers  of  Victor's  division,  whil^  Kellermann, 
the  son  of  the  hero  of  Valmy,  performed  his  first  great 
exploit  by  hurling  back  some  venturesome  Austrian  horse- 
men into  the  deep  bed  of  the  Fontanone.  This  gave  time 
to  Lannes  to  bring  up  his  division,  5,000  strong,  into  line 
between  Marengo  and  Castel  Ceriolo.  But  when  the  full 
force  of  the  Austrian  attack  was  developed  about  10  a.m., 
the  Imperialists  not  only  gained  Marengo,  but  threw  a 
heavy  column,  led  by  General  Ott,  against  Lannes,  who 
was  constrained  to  retire,  contesting  every  inch  of  the 
ground.  Thus,  when,  an  hour  later,  Bonaparte  rode  up 
from  the  distant  rear,  hurrying  along  his  Consular  Guard, 
his  eye  fell  upon  his  battalions  overpowered  in  front  and 
outflanked  on  both  wings.  At  once  he  launched  his  Con- 
sular Guard,  1,000  strong,  against  Ott's  triumphant  ranks. 
Drawn  up  in  square  near  Castel  Ceriolo,  it  checked  them 
for  a  brief  space,  until,  plied  by  cannon  and  charged  by 
the  enemy's  horse,  these  chosen  troops  also  began  to  give 
ground.  But  at  this  crisis  Monnier's  division  of  8,600 
men  arrived,  threw  itself  into  the  fight,  held  up  the  flood 
of  white-coats  around  the  hamlet  of  Li  Poggi,  while  Carra 
St.  Cyr  fastened  his  grip  on  Castel  Ceriolo.  Under  cover 
of  this  welcome  screen,  Victor  and  Lannes  restored  some 
order  to  their  divisions  and  checked  for  a  time  the  onsets 
of  the  enemy.  Slowly  but  surely,  however,  the  impact  of 
the  Austrian  main  column,  advancing  along  the  high-road, 
made  them  draw  back  on  San  Giuliano. 

By  2  P.M.  the  battle  seemed  to  be  lost  for  the  French  : 
except  on  the  north  of  their  line  they  were  in  full  retreat, 
and  all  but  five  of  their  cannon  were  silenced.  Melas, 
oppressed  by  his  weight  of  years,  by  the  terrific  heat,  and 
by  two  slight  wounds,  retired  to  Alessandria,  leaving  his 
chief  of  the  staff,  Zach,  to  direct  the  pursuit.  But,  un- 
fortunately, Melas  had  sent  back  2,200  horsemen  to  watch 


XI  MARENGO:  LUNIIYILIJ:  287 

the  district  between  Alessandria  and  Acqui,  to  which  lat- 
ter place  Sachet's  force  was  advancing.  To  guard  against 
this  remoter  danger,  he  weakened  his  attacking  force  at 
the  critical  time  and  place  ;  and  now,  when  the  Austrians 
approached  the  hill  of  San  Giuliano  with  bands  playing 
and  colours  flying,  their  horse  was  not  strong  enough  to 
complete  the  French  defeat.  Still,  such  was  the  strength 
of  their  onset  that  all  resistance  seemed  unavailing,  until 
about  5  P.M.  the  approach  of  Desaix  breathed  new  life 
and  hope  into  the  defence.  At  once  he  rode  up  to  the 
First  Consul ;  and  if  vague  rumours  may  be  credited,  he 
was  met  by  the  eager  question :  "  Well,  what  do  you 
think  of  it  ?  "  To  which  he  replied  :  "The  battle  is  lost, 
but  there  is  time  to  gain  another."  Marmont,  who  heard 
the  conversation,  denies  that  these  words  were  uttered ; 
and  they  presume  a  boldness  of  which  even  Desaix  would 
scarcely  have  been  guilty  to  his  chief.  What  he  unques- 
tionably did  urge  was  the  immediate  use  of  artillery  to 
check  the  Austrian  advance  :  and  Marmont,  hastily  rein- 
forcing his  own  five  guns  with  thirteen  others,  took  a 
strong  position  and  riddled  the  serried  ranks  of  the 
enemy  as,  swathed  in  clouds  of  smoke  and  dust,  they 
pressed  blindly  forward.  The  First  Consul  disposed  the 
troops  of  Desaix  behind  the  village  and  a  neighbouring 
hill ;  while  at  a  little  distance  on  the  French  left,  Keller- 
mann  was  ready  to  charge  with  his  heavy  cavalry  as  op- 
portunity offered. 

It  came  quickly.  Marmont's  guns  unsteadied  Zach's 
grenadiers :  Desaix's  men  plied  them  with  musketry ; 
and  while  they  were  preparing  for  a  last  effort,  Keller- 
mann's  heavy  cavalry  charged  full  on  their  flank.  Never 
was  surprise  more  complete.  The  column  was  cut  in 
twain  by  this  onset ;  and  veterans,  who  but  now  seemed 
about  to  overbear  all  obstacles,  were  lying  mangled  by 
grapeshot,  hacked  by  sabres,  flying  helplessly  amidst  the 
vineyards,  or  surrendering  by  hundreds.  A  panic  spread 
to  their  comrades  ;  and  they  g^ve  way  on  all  sides  before 
the  fiercely  rallying  French.  The  retreat  became  a  rout 
as  the  recoiling  columns  neared  the  bridges  of  the  Bor- 
mida  :  and  night  closed  over  a  scene  of  wild  confusion,  as 
the  defeated  army,  thrust  out  from  the  shelter  of  Marengo, 


288  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

flung  itself  over  the  river  into  the  stronghold  of  Ales- 
sandria. 

Such  was  the  victory  of  Marengo.  It  was  dearly 
bought ;  for,  apart  from  the  heavy  losses,  amounting  on 
either  side  to  about  one-third  of  the  number  engamd,  the 
victors  sustained  an  irreparable  loss  in  the  death  of 
Desaix,  who  fell  in  the  moment  when  his  skill  and  vigour 
snatched  victory  from  defeat.  The  victory  was  immedi- 
ately due  to  Kellermann's  brilliant  charge ;  and  there 
can  be  no  doubt,  in  spite  of  Savary's  statements,  that  this 
voung  officer  made  the  charge  on  his  own  initiative.  Yet 
his  onset  could  have  had  little  effect,  had  not  Desaix 
shaken  the  enemy  and  left  him  liable  to  a  panic  like  that 
which  brought  disaster  to  the  Imperialists  at  Rivoli. 
Bonaparte's  dispositions  at  the  crisis  were  undoubtedly 
skilf 111 ;  but  in  the  first  part  of  the  fight  his  conduct  was 
below  his  reputation.  We  do  not  hear  of  him  electrify- 
ing his  disordered  troops  by  any  deed  comparable  with 
that  of  Csesar,  when,  shield  in  hand,  he  flung  himself 
among  the  legionaries  to  stem  the  torrent  of  the  Nervii. 
At  the  climax  of  the  fight  he  uttered  the  words  "  Sol- 
diers, remember  it  is  my  custom  to  bivouac  on  th'e  field 
of  battle  "  —  tame  and  egotistical  words  considering  the 
gravity  of  the  crisis. 

On  the  evening  of  the  great  day,  while  paying  an  exag- 

?erated  compliment  to  Bessieres  and  the  cavalry  of  the 
lonsular  Guard,  he  merely  remarked  to  Eellermann : 
"  You  made  a  very  good  charge ; "  to  which  that  officer 
is  said  to  have  replied  :  ^^  I  am  glad  you  are  satisfied,  gen- 
eral :  for  it  has  placed  the  crown  on  your  head."  Such 
Settiness  was  unworthy  of  the  great  captain  who  could 
esign  and  carry  through  the  memorable  campaign  of 
Marengo.  If  the  climax  was  not  worthy  of  the  incep- 
tion, yet  the  campaign  as  a  whole  must  be  pronounced  a 
masterpiece.  Since  the  days  of  Hannibal  no  design  so 
daring  and  original  had  startled  the  world.  A  great 
Austrian  army  was  stopped  in  its  victorious  career,  was 
compelled  to  turn  on  its  shattered  communications,  and 
to  fight  for  its  existence  some  120  miles  to  the  rear  of  the 
territory  which  it  seemed  to  have  conquered.  In  fact, 
the  allied  victories  of  the  past  year  were  effaced  by  this 


XI  MARENGO:  LUNIsVILLE  239 

march  of  Bonaparte's  army,  which,  in  less  than  a  month 
after  the  ascent  of  the  Alps,  regained  Nice,  Piedmont,  and 
Lombardy,  and  reduced  the  Imperialists  to  l^e  direst  straits. 

Staggered  by  this  terrific  blow,  Melas  and  his  staff  were 
ready  to  accept  any  terms  that  were  not  deeply  humiliat- 
ing ;  and  Bonaparte  on  his  side  was  not  loth  to  end  the 
campaign  in  a  blaze  of  glory.  He  consented  that  the 
Imperial  troops  should  retire  to  the  east  of  the  Mincio, 
except  at  Peschiera  and  Mantua,  which  they  were  still  to 
occupy.  These  terms  have  been  varioudy  criticised  : 
Melas  has  been  blamed  for  cowardice  in  surrendering  the 
many  strongholds,  including  Genoa,  which  his  men  nrmly 
held.  Yet  it  must  be  remembered  that  he  now  had  at 
Alessandria  less  than  20,000  effectives,  and  that  80,000 
Austrians  in  isolated  bodies  were  practically  at  the  mercy 
of  the  French  between  Savona  and  Brescia.  One  and  all 
they  could  now  retire  to  the  Mincio  and  there  resume  the 
defence  of  the  Imperial  territories.  The  political  designs 
of  the  Court  of  Vienna  on  Piedmont  were  of  course  shat- 
tered ;  but  it  now  recovered  the  army  which  it  had  heed- 
lessly sacrificed  to  territorial  ^eed.  Bonaparte  has  also 
been  blamed  for  the  lenience  of  his  terms.  Severer  condi- 
tions could  doubtless  have  been  extorted ;  but  he  now 
merged  the  soldier  in  the  statesman.  He  desired  peace 
for  the  sake  of  France  and  for  his  own  sake.  After  this 
brilliant  stroke  peace  would  be  doubly  grateful  to  a  people 
that  longed  for  glory  but  also  yearned  to  heal  the  wounds 
of  eight  years'  warfare.  His  own  position  as  First  Consul 
was  as  yet  ill-established* ;  and  he  desired  to  be  back  at 
Paris  so  as  to  curb  the  restive  Tribunate,  overawe  Jacobins 
and  royalists,  and  rebuild  the  institutions  of  France. 

Impelled  by  these  motives,  he  penned  to  the  Emperor 
Francis  an  elegant  appeal  for  peace,  renewing  his  offer  of 
treating  with  Austria  on  the  basis  of  the  treaty  of  Campo 
Formio.^  But  Austria  was  not  as  yet  so  far  humbled  as 
to  accept  such  terms  ;  and  it  needed  the  master-stroke  of 
Moreau  at  the  great  battle  of  Hohenlinden  (December 
2nd,   1800),   and   the  turning  of  her   fortresses  on  the 

1  "Correap.,"  vol.  vi.,  p.  366.  Foumier,  "Hist.  Studien  und  Skiz- 
zen,"  p.  189,  argues  that  the  letter  was  written  from  Milan,  and  dated 
from  Marengo  for  effect. 


240  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Mincio  by  the  brilliant  passage  of  the  Spliigen  in  the 
depths  of  winter  by  Macdonald  —  a  feat  far  transcending 
that  of  Bonaparte  at  the  St.  Bernard — to  compel  her  to  a 
peace.  A  description  of  these  events  would  be  beyond  the 
scope  of  this  work  ;  and  we  now  return  to  consider  the 
career  of  Bonaparte  as  a  statesman. 

After  a  brief  stay  at  Milan  and  Turin,  where  he  was 
received  as  the  liberator  of  Italy,  the  First  Consul  crossed 
the  Alps  by  the  Mont  Cenis  pass  and  was  received  with 
rapturous  acclaim  at  Lyons  and  Paris.  He  had  been  ab- 
sent from  the  capital  less  than  two  calendar  months. 

He  now  sent  a  letter  to  the  Czar  Paul,  offering  that,  if 
the  French  garrison  of  Malta  were  compelled  by  famine 
to  evacuate  that  island,  he  would  place  it  in  the  hands  of 
the  Czar,  as  Grand  Master  of  the  Kniehts  of  St.  John. 
Rarely  has  a  "  Greek  gift "  been  more  wcilfully  tendered. 
In  the  first  place,  Vaietta  was  so  closely  blockaded  by 
Nelson's  cruisers  and  invested  by  the  native  Maltese 
that  its  surrender  might  be  expected  in  a  few  weeks  ;  and 
the  First  Consul  was  well  aware  how  anxiously  the  Czar 
had  been  seeking  to  gain  a  foothold  at  Malta  whence  he 
could  menace  Turkey  from  the  south-east.  In  his  wish 
completely  to  gain  over  Russia,  Bonaparte  also  sent  back, 
well-clad  and  well-armed,  the  prisoners  taken  from  the 
Russian  armies  in  1799,  a  step  which  was  doubly  appre- 
ciated at  Petersburg  because  the  Russian  troops  which 
had  campaigned  with  the  Duke  of  York  in  Holland  were 
somewhat  shabbily  treated  by  the  British  Government  in 
the  Channel  Islands,  where  they  took  up  their  winter 
quarters.  Accordingly  the  Czar  now  sent  Kalicheff  to 
Paris,  for  the  formation  of  a  Franco-Russian  alliance.  He 
was  warmly  received.  Bonaparte  promised  in  general 
terms  to  restore  the  King  of  Sardinia  to  his  former  realm 
and  the  Pope  to  his  States.  On  his  side,  the  Czar  sent 
the  alluring  advice  to  Bonaparte  to  found  a  djmasty  and 
thereby  put  an  end  to  the  revolutionary  principles  which 
had  armed  Europe  against  France.  He  also  offered  to 
recognize  the  natural  frontiers  of  France,  the  Rhine  and 
the  Maritime  Alps,  and  claimed  that  German  affairs 
should  be  regulated  under  his  own  mediation.  When 
both  parties  were  so  complaisant,  a  bargain  was  easily 


XI  MARENGO:   LUN^VILLE  241 

arranged.  France  and  Russia  accordingly  joined  hands 
in  order  to  secure  predominance  in  the  affairs  of  Central 
and  Southern  Europe,  and  to  counterbalance  England's 
supremacy  at  sea. 

For  it  was  not  enough  to  break  up  the  Second  Coali- 
tion and  recover  Northern  Italy.  Bonaparte's  policy  was 
more  than  European  ;  it  was  oceanic.  England  must  be 
beaten  on  her  own  element:  then  and  then  only  could 
the  young  warrior  secure  his  grasp  on  Egypt  and  return 
to  Ins  oriental  schemes.  His  correspondence  before  and 
after  the  Marengo  campaign  reveals  his  eagerness  for  a 
peace  with  Austria  and  an  alliance  with  Russia.  His 
thoughts  constantly  turn  to  Egypt.  He  bargains  with 
Britain  that  his  army  there  may  be  revictualled,  and  so 
words  his  claim  that  troops  can  easily  be  sent  also.  Lord 
Grenville  refuses  (September  10th)  ;  whereupon  Bona- 
parte throws  himself  eagerly  into  further  plans  for  the 
destruction  of  the  islanders.  He  seeks  to  inflame  the 
Czar's  wrath  against  the  English  maritime  code.  His 
success  for  the  time  is  complete.  At  the  close  of  1800 
the  Russian  Emperor  marshals  the  Baltic  Powers  for  the 
overthrow  of  England's  navy,  and  outstrips  Bonaparte's 
wildest  hopes  by  proposing  a  Franco-Russian  invasion  of 
India  with  a  view  to  "dealing  his  enemy  a  mortal  blow." 
This  plan,  as  drawn  up  at  the  close  of  1800,  arranged  for 
the  mustering  of  35,000  Russians  at  Astrakan ;  while  as 
many  French  were  to  fight  their  way  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Danube,  set  sail  on  Russian  ships  for  the  Sea  of  Azov, 
join  their  allies  on  the  Caspian  Sea,  sail  to  its  southern 
extremity,  and,  rousing  the  Persians  and  Afghans  by  the 
hope  of  plunder,  sweep  the  British  from  India.  The 
scheme  received  from  Bonaparte  a  courteous  perusal ;  but 
he  subjected  it  to  several  criticisms,  which  led  to  less 
patient  rejoinders  from  the  irascible  potentate.  Never- 
theless, Paul  began  to  march  his  troops  towards  the  lower 
Volga,  and  several  polks  of  Cossacks  had  crossed  that 
river  on  the  ice,  when  the  news  of  his  assassination  cut 
short  the  scheme.^ 

^See  Czartoryski's  «<  Memoirs,*^  ch.  zi.,  and  Brianlt^s  **La  QtteBtion 
d^Orient/'  ch.  iii.  The  British  Foreign  Office  was  informed  of  the  plan. 
In  its  records  (No.  614)  is  a  memoir  (pencilled  on  the  back  January  Slst, 


242  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

The  grandiose  schemes  of  Paul  vanished  with  their  fan- 
tastic contriver ;  but  the  rapprochement  of  Russia  to  revo- 
lutionary France  was  ultimately  to  prove  an  event  of 
far-reaching  importance;  for  the  eastern  power  thereby 
began  to  exert  on  the  democracy  of  western  Europe  that 
subtle,  semi- Asiatic  influence  which  has  so  powerfully 
warped  its  original  character. 

The  dawn  of  the  nineteenth  century  witnessed  some 
startling  rearrangements  on  the  political  chess-board. 
While  Bonaparte  brought  Russia  and  France  to  sudden 
amity,  the  unbending  maritime  policy  of  Great  Britain 
leagued  the  Baltic  Powers  against  the  mistress  of  the  seas. 
In  the  autumn  of  1800  the  Czar  Paul,  after  hearing  of  our 
capture  of  Malta,  forthwith  revived  the  Armed  Neutrality 
League  of  1780  and  opposed  the  forces  of  Russia,  Prussia, 
Sweden,  and  Denmark  to  the  might  of  England's  navy. 
But  Nelson's  brilliant  success  at  Copenhagen  and  the 
murder  of  the  Czar  by  a  palace  conspiracy  shattered  this 
league  only  four  months  after  its  formation,  and  the  new 
Czar,  Alexander,  reverted  for  a  time  to  friendship  with 
England.^  This  sudden  ending  to  the  first  Franco-Russian 
alliance  so  enraged  Bonaparte  that  he  caused  a  paragraph 
to  be  inserted  in  the  official  "  Moniteur,"  charging  the 
British  Government  with  procuring  the  assassination  of 
Paul,  an  insinuation  that  only  proclaimed  his  rage  at  this 
sudden  rebuff  to  his  hitherto  successful  diplomacy.  Though 
foiled  for  a  time,  he  never  lost  sight  of  the  hoped-for  alli- 
ance, which,  with  a  deft  commixture  of  force  and  persua- 
sion, he  gained  seven  years  later,  after  the  crushing  blow 
of  Friedland. 

Dread  of  a  Franco-Russian  alliance  undoubtedly  helped 
to  compel  Austria  to  a  peace.  Humbled  by  Moreau  at  the 
great  battle  of  Hohenllnden,  the  Emperor  Francis  opened 

1801)  from  a  M.  Leclerc  to  Mr.  Flintf  referring  the  present  proposal  back 
to  that  offered  by  M.  de  St.  G^nie  to  Catherine  II.,  and  proposing  Uiat  the 
first  French  step  should  be  the  seizure  of  Socotra  and  Ferim. 

^  Garden,  **  Traits,'*  vol.  vi.,  ch.  zxx.  ;  Captain  Mahan's  '^Life  of 
Nelson,"  vol.  ii.,  ch.  xvi.  ;  Thiers,  "  Consulate,"  bk.  ix.  For  the  assas- 
sination of  the  Czar  Paul  see  *' Kaiser  Paul's  Ende,"  yon  R.  R.  (Stutt- 
gart, 1897) ;  also  Czartoryski's  *'  Memoirs,"  chs.  xiiL-ziv.  For  Bonaparte's 
offer  of  a  nayaJ  truce  to  us  and  his  overture  of  December,  1800,  see  Bow- 
man, op,  ciL 


XI  MARENGO:  LUNfiVILLE  243 

negotiations  at  Luneville  in  Lorraine.  The  subtle  obsti- 
nacy of  Cobenzl  there  found  its  match  in  the  firm  yet  suave 
diplomacy  of  Joseph  Bonaparte,  who  wearied  out  Cobenzl 
himself,  until  the  march  of  Moreau  towards  Vienna  com- 
pelled Francis  to  accept  the  River  Adige  as  his  boundary 
in  Italy.  The  other  terms  of  the  treaty  (February  9th, 
1801)  were  practically  the  same  as  those  of  the  treaty  of 
Gampo  Formio,  save  that  the  Hapsburg  Grand  Duke  of 
Tuscany  was  compelled  to  surrender  his  State  to  a  son 
of  the  Bourbon  Duke  of  Parma.  He  himself  was  to 
receive  "  compensation  "  in  Germany,  where  also  the  un- 
fortunate Duke  of  Modena  was  to  find  consolation  in  the 
district  of  the  Breisgau  on  the  Upper  Rhine.  The  help- 
lessness of  the  old  Holy  Roman  Empire  was,  indeed, 
glaringly  displayed ;  for  Francis  now  admitted  the  right 
of  the  French  to  interfere  in  the  rearrangement  of  that 
medley  of  States.  He  also  recognized  the  Cisalpine, 
Ligurian,  Helvetic,  and  Batavian  Republics,  as  at  present 
constituted;  but  their  independence,  and  the  liberty  of 
their  peoples  to  choose  what  form  of  government  they 
thought  fit,  were  expressly  stipulated. 

The  Court  of  Naples  also  made  peace  with  France  by 
the  treaty  of  Florence  (March,  1801),  whereby  it  with- 
drew its  troops  from  the  States  of  the  Church,  and  closed 
its  ports  to  British  and  Turkish  ships ;  it  also  renounced 
in  favour  of  the  French  Republic  all  its  claims  over  a 
maritime  district  of  Tuscany  known  as  the  Presidii,  the 
little  principality  of  Piombino,  and  a  port  in  the  Isle  of 
Elba.  These  cessions  fitted  in  well  with  Napoleon's 
schemes  for  the  proposed  elevation  of  the  heir  of  the 
Duchy  of  Parma  to  the  rank  of  King  of  Tuscany  or 
Etruria.  The  King  of  Naples  also  pleds^ed  himself  to 
admit  and  support  a  French  corps  in  his  dominions. 
Soult  with  10,000  troops  thereupon  occupied  Otranto, 
Taranto,  and  Brindisi,  in  order  to  hold  the  Neapolitan 
Government  to  its  engagements,  and  to  facilitate  French 
intercourse  with  Egypt. 

In  his  relations  with  the  New  World  Bonaparte  had 
also  prospered.  Certain  disputes  between  France  and 
the  United  States  had  led  to  hostilities  in  the  year  1798. 
Negotiations  for  peace  were  opened  in  March,  1800,  and 


244  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohjlp.  xi 

led  to  the  treaty  of  Morfontaine,  which  enabled  Bona- 
parte to  press  on  the  Court  of  Madrid  the  scheme  of  the 
Parma-Louisiana  exchange,  that  promised  him  a  mag- 
nificent empire  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi. 

These  and  other  grandiose  designs  were  confided  only 
to  Talleyrand  and  other  intimate  counsellors.  But,  even 
to  the  mass  of  mankind,  the  transformation  scene  ushered 
in  by  the  nineteenth  century  was  one  of  bewildering 
brilliance.  Italy  from  the  Alps  to  her  heel  controlled  by 
the  French ;  Austria  compelled  to  forego  all  her  Italian 
plans ;  Switzerland  and  Holland  dominated  by  the  Fii*st 
Consul's  influence ;  Spain  following  submissively  his  im- 
perious lead;  England,  despite  all  her  naval  triumphs, 
helpless  on  land;  and  France  rapidly  regaining  more 
than  all  her  old  prestige  and  stability  under  the  new  in- 
stitutions which  form  the  most  enduring  tribute  to  the 
First  Consul's  glory. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  NEW  INSTITUTIONS  OF  FRANCE 

**  We  have  done  with  the  romance  of  the  Revolution  : 
we  must  now  commence  its  history.  We  must  have  eyes 
only  for  what  is  real  and  practicable  in  the  application  of 
principles,  and  not  for  the  speculative  and  hypothetical." 
Such  were  the  memorable  words  of  Bonaparte  to  his 
Council  of  State  at  one  of  its  early  meetings.  They  strike 
the  keynote  of  the  era  of  the  Consulate.  It  was  a  period 
of  intensely  practical  activity  that  absorbed  all  the  ener- 
gies of  France  and  caused  the  earlier  events  of  the  Revo- 
lution to  fade  away  into  a  seemingly  remote  past.  The 
failures  of  the  civilian  rulers  and  the  military  triumphs  of 
Bonaparte  had  exerted  a  curious  influence  on  the  French 
character,  which  was  in  a  mood  of  expectant  receptivity. 
In  1800  everything  was  in  the  transitional  state  that 
favours  the  efforts  of  a  master  builder  ;  and  one  was  now 
at  hand  whose  constructive  ability  .in  civil  affairs  equalled 
his  transcendent  genius  for  war. 

I  propose  here  briefly  to  review  the  most  important 
works  of  reconstruction  which  render  the  Consulate  and 
the  early  part  of  the  Empire  for  ever  famous.  So  vast 
and  complex  were  Bonaparte's  efforts  in  this  field  that 
they  will  be  described,  not  chronologically,  but  subject 
by  subject.  The  reader  will,  however,  remember  that  for 
the  most  part  they  went  on  side  by  side,  even  amidst  the 
distractions  caused  by  war,  diplomacy,  colonial  enter- 
prises, and  the  myriad  details  of  a  vast  administration. 
What  here  appears  as  a  series  of  canals  was  in  reality  a 
mighty  river  of  enterprise  rolling  in  undivided  volume 
and  fed  by  the  superhuman  vitality  of  the  First  Consul. 
It  was  his  inexhaustible  curiosity  which  compelled  func- 
tionaries to  reveal  the  secrets  of  their  office  :  it  was  his 
intelligence  that  seized   on  the  salient  points  of  every 


246  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap. 

problem  and  saw  the  solution  :  it  was  his  ardour  and 
mental  tenacity  which  kept  his  Ministers  and  committees 
hard  at  work,  and  by  toil  of  sometimes  twenty  hours  a 
day  supervised  the  results  :  it  was,  in  fine,  his  passion  for 
thoroughness,  his  ambition  for  ITrance,  that  nerved  every 
official  with  something  of  his  own  contempt  of  difficulties, 
until,  as  one  of  them  said,  ^^  the  gigantic  entered  into  our 
very  habits  of  thought."  * 

The  first  question  of  political  reconstruction  which 
urgently  claimed  attention  was  that  of  local  government. 
On  the  very  day  when  it  was  certain  that  the  nation  had 
accepted  the  new  constitution,  the  First  Consul  presented 
to  the  Legislature  a  draft  of  a  law  for  refi^ulating  the 
affairs  of  the  Departments.  It  must  be  admitted  that 
local  self-government,  as  instituted  by  the  men  of  1789 
in  their  Departmental  System,  had  proved  a  failure.  In 
that  time  of  buoyant  hope,  when  every  difficulty  and 
abuse  seemed  about  to  be  charmed  away  by  the  magic  of 
universal  suffrage,  local  self-government  of  a  most  ad- 
vanced type  had  been  intrusted  to  an  inexperienced 
populace.  There  were  elections  for  the  commune  or 
parish,  elections  for  the  canton,  elections  for  the  district, 
elections  for  the  Department,  and  elections  for  the 
National  Assembly,  until  the  rustic  brain,  after  reeling 
with  excitement,  speedily  fell  back  into  muddled  apathy 
and  left  affairs  generally  to  the  wire-pullers  of  the  nearest 
Jacobin  club.  A  time  of  great  confusion  ensued.  Law 
went  according  to  local  opinion,  and  the  national  taxes  were 
often  left  unpaid.  In  the  Reign  of  Terror  this  lax  system 
was  replaced  by  the  despotism  of  the  secret  committees, 
and  the  way  was  thus  paved  for  a  return  to  organized 
central  control,  such  as  was  exercised  by  the  Directory. 

The  First  Consul,  as  successor  to  the  Directory,  there- 
fore found  matters  ready  to  his  hand  for  a  drastic  meas- 
ure of  centralization,  and  it  is  curious  to  notice  that 
the  men  of  1789  had  unwittingly  cleared  the  ground  for 

1  Paaquier,  •'  Mems.,"  vol.  i.,  ch,  il.,  p.  299.  So  too  MoUien,  "  Mems."  : 
<*  With  an  insatiable  activity  in  details,  a  restlessness  of  mind  always 
eager  for  new  cares,  he  not  only  reigned  and  governed,  he  continued  to 
administer  not  only  as  Prime  Minister,  but  more  minutely  than  each 
Minister.** 


XII  LOCAL  GOVERNMENT  247 

him.  To  make  way  for  the  "  supremacy  of  the  general 
will,"  they  abolished  the  ParlementSy  which  had  main- 
tained the  old  laws,  customs,  and  privileges  of  their 
several  provinces,  and  had  frequently  interfered  in  purely 
political  matters.  The  abolition  of  these  and  other 
privileged  corporations  in  1789  unified  France  and  left 
not  a  single  barrier  to  withstand  either  the  flood  of 
democracy  or  the  backwash  of  reaction.  Everything 
therefore  favoured  the  action  of  the  First  Consul  in  draw- 
ing all  local  powers  under  his  own  control.  France 
was  for  the  moment  weary  of  elective  bodies,  that  did 
little  except  waste  the  nation's  taxes  ;  and  though  there 
was  some  opposition  to  the  new  proposal,  it  passed  on 
February  16th,  1800  (28  Pluviose,  An  VIII.). 

It  substituted  local  government  by  the  central  power 
for  local  self-government.  The  local  divisions  remained 
the  same,  except  that  the  ^^  districts,"  abolished  by  the 
Convention,  were  now  reconstituted  on  a  somewhat  larger 
scale,  and  were  termed  arrondissementSy  while  the  smaller 
communes,  which  had  been  merged  in  the  cantons  since 
1795,  were  also  revived.  It  is  noteworthy  that,  of  all 
the  areas  mapped  out  by  the  Constituent  Assembly  in 
1789-90,  only  the  Department  and  canton  have  had  a 
continuous  existence  —  a  fact  which  seems  to  show  the 
peril  of  tampering  with  well-established  boundaries,  and 
of  carving  out  a  large  number  of  artificial  districts,  which 
speedily  oecome  the  corpus  vile  of  other  experimenters. 
Indeed,  so  little  was  there  of  effective  self-government 
that  France  seems  to  have  sighed  with  relief  when  order 
was  imposed  by  Bonaparte  in  the  person  of  a  Prefect. 
This  important  official,  a  miniature  First  Consul,  was  to 
administer  the  affairs  of  the  Department,  while  sub-pre- 
fects were  similarly  placed  over  the  new  arrondissementSy 
and  mayors  over  the  communes.  The  mayors  were  ap- 
pointed by  the  First  Consul  in  communes  of  more  than 
5,000  souls  :  by  the  prefects  in  the  smaller  communes  : 
all  were  alike  responsible  to  the  central  power. 

The  rebound  from  the  former  electoral  system,  which 
placed  all  local  authority  ultimately  in  the  hands  of  the 
voters,  was  emphasized  by  article  75  of  the  constitution, 
which  virtually  raised   officials  beyond  reach  of  prose- 


848  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  CBJkr. 

cution.  It  ran  thus:  ^^The  agents  of  the  Government, 
other  than  the  Ministers,  cannot  be  prosecuted  for  facts 
relating  to  their  duties  except  by  a  decision  of  the  Council 
of  State  :  in  that  case  the  prosecution  takes  place  before 
the  ordinary  tribunals."  Now,  as  this  decision  rested 
with  a  body  composed  almost  entirely  of  the  higher  offi- 
cials, it  will  be  seen  that  the  chance  of  a  public  prosecu- 
tion of  an  official  became  extremely  small.  France  was 
therefore  in  the  first  months  of  1800  handed  over  to  a 
hierarchy  of  officials  closely  bound  together  by  interest 
and  esprit  de  eorps;  and  local  administration,  after  ten 
years  of  democratic  experiments,  practically  reverted  to 
what  it  had  been  under  the  old  monarchy.  In  fact,  the 
powers  of  the  Prefects  were,  on  the  whole,  much  greater 
than  those  of  the  royal  Intendants :  for  while  the  latter 
were  hampered  by  the  provincial  Parlements^  the  nominees 
of  the  First  Consul  had  to  deal  with  councils  that  retained 
scarce  the  shadow  of  power.  The  real  authority  in  local 
matters  rested  with  the  Prefects.  The  old  elective  bodies 
survived,  it  is  true,  but  their  functions  were  now  mainly 
advisory ;  and,  lest  their  advice  should  be  too  copious, 
the  sessions  of  the  first  two  bodies  were  limited  to  a  fort- 
night a  year.  Except  for  a  share  in  the  assessment  of 
taxation,  their  existence  was  merely  a  screen  to  hide  the 
reality  of  the  new  central  despotism.^  Beneficent  it  may 
have  been ;  and  the  choice  of  Prefects  was  certainly  a 
proof  of  Bonaparte's  discernment  of  real  merit  among 
men  of  all  shades  of  opinion ;  but  for  all  that,  it  was  a 
despotism,  and  one  that  has  inextricably  entwined  itself 
with  the  whole  life  of  France.^ 

It  seems  strange  that  this  law  should  not  have  aroused 
fierce  opposition  ;  for  it  practically  gagged  democracy  in 
its  most  appropriate  and  successful  sphere  of  action,  local 
self-government,  and  made  popular  election  a  mere  shadow, 

1  Lack  of  space  prevents  any  account  of  French  finances  and  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  Bank  of  France.  But  we  may  note  here  that  the  col- 
lection of  the  national  taxes  was  now  carried  out  by  a  State-appointed 
director  and  his  subordinates  in  every  Department —  a  plan  which  yielded 
better  results  than  former  slipshod  methods.  The  conseU  g^niral  of  the 
Department  assessed  the  direct  taxes  among  the  smaller  areas.  '<  M^ms." 
de  Gaudin,  Due  de  Ga6te. 

>  Edmund  Blanc,  ''Napolton  L  ;  ses  Institutions/^  p.  27. 


xn  LOCAL  OOVERNBfENT  249 

except  in  the  single  act  of  the  choice  of  the  local  juge%  de 
paix.  This  was  foreseen  by  the  Liberals  in  the  Tribunate  : 
out  their  power  was  small  since  the  regulations  passed  in 
January :  and  though  Daunou,  as  "  reporter,"  sharply 
criticised  this  measure,  yet  he  lamely  concluded  with  the 
advice  that  it  would  be  dangerous  to  reject  it.  The  Tri- 
bunes therefore  passed  the  proposal  by  71  votes  to  25:  and 
the  Corps  Legislatif  by  217  to  68. 

The  results  of  this  new  local  government  have  often 
been  considered  so  favourable  as  to  prove  that  the  genius 
of  the  French  people  requires  central  control  rather  than 
self-government.  But  it  should  be  noted  that  the  condi- 
tions of  France  from  1790  to  1800  were  altogether  hostile 
to  the  development  of  free  institutions.  The  fierce  feuds 
at  home,  the  greed  and  the  class  jealousies  awakened  by 
confiscation,  the  blasts  of  war  and  the  blight  of  bankruptcy, 
would  have  severely  tested  the  firmest  of  local  institutions ; 
they  were  certain  to  wither  so  delicate  an  organism  as  an 
absolute  democracy,  which  requires  peace,  prosperity,  and 
infinite  patience  for  its  development.  Because  France  then 
came  to  despair  of  her  local  self-government,  it  did  not 
follow  that  she  would  fail  after  Bonaparte's  return  had 
restored  her  prestige  and  prosperity.  But  the  national 
^2an  forbade  any  postponement  or  compromise  ;  and  France 
forthwith  accepted  the  rule  of  an  able  official  hierarchy 
as  a  welcome  alternative  to  the  haphazard  acts  of  local 
busybodies.  By  many  able  men  the  change  has  been 
hailed  as  a  proof  of  Bonaparte's  marvellous  discernment 
of  the  national  character,  which,  as  they  aver,  longs  for 
brilliance,  order,  and  strong  government,  rather  than  for 
the  steep  and  thorny  paths  of  liberty.  Certainly  there 
is  much  in  the  modern  history  of  France  which  supports 
this  opinion.  Yet  perhaps  these  characteristics  are  due 
very  largely  to  the  master  craftsman  who  fashioned  France 
anew  when  in  a  state  of  receptivity,  and  thus  was  able  to 
subject  democracy  to  that  force  which  alone  has  been  able 
to  tame  it  —  the  mis^hty  force  of  militarism. 

The  return  to  a  monarchical  policy  was  nowhere  more 
evident  than  in  the  very  important  negotiations  which 
regulated  the  relations  of  Church  and  State  and  produced 


260  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

the  Concordat  or  treaty  of  peace  with  the  Roman  Catho- 
lic Church.  But  we  must  first  look  back  at  the  events 
which  had  reduced  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  France 
to  its  pitiable  condition. 
SK  The  conduct  of  the  revolutionists  towards  the  Church 
of  France  was  actuated  partly  by  the  urgent  needs  of  the 
national  exchequer,  partly  by  hatred  and  fear  of  so  pow- 
erful a  religious  corporation.  Idealists  of  the  new  school 
of  thought,  and  practical  men  who  dreaded  bankruptcy, 
accordingly  joined  in  the  assault  on  its  property  and  privi- 
leges :  its  tithes  were  confiscated,  the  religious  houses  and 
their  property  were  likewise  absorbed,  and  its  lands  were 
declared  to  be  the  lands  of  the  nation.  A  budget  of  pub* 
lie  worship  was,  it  is  true,  designed  to  support  the  bishops 
and  priests ;  but  this  solemn  obligation  was  soon  re- 
nounced by  the  fiercer  revolutionists.  Yet  robbery  was 
not  their  worst  offence.  In  July,  1790,  they  passed  a  law 
called  the  Civil  Constitution  of  the  Clergy,  which  aimed 
at  subjecting  the  Church  to  the  State.  It  compelled 
bishops  and  priests  to  seek  election  by  the  adult  males  of 
their  several  Departments  and  parishes,  and  forced  them 
to  take  a  stringent  oath  of  obedience  to  the  new  order  of 
things.  All  the  bishops  but  four  refused  to  take  an  oath 
which  set  at  naught  the  authority  of  the  Pope  :  more  than 
60,000  priests  likewise  refused,  and  were  ejected  from 
their  livings  :  the  recusants  were  termed  azihodo^  nr  n/ni- 
juring  priests,  and  by  the  law  of  August,  1792,  they  were 
ellltid  froUi  France,  while  their  more  pliable  or  time-serv- 
ing brethren  who  accepted  the  new  decree  were  known  as 
cojnMitMtifmaiS:^,^  About  12,000  of  the  constitutionals  mar- 
rieSTwhile  some  of  them  applauded  the  extreme  Jacobini- 
cal measures  of  the  Terror.  One  of  them  shocked  the 
faithful  by  celebrating  the  mysteries,  having  a  bonnet  rouge 
on  his  head,  holding  a  pike  in  his  hand,  while  his  wife  was 
installed  near  the  altar.  ^  Outrages  like  these  were  rare  ; 
but  they  served  to  discredit  the  constitutional  Church  and 
to  throw  up  in  sharper  relief  the  courage  with  which  the 
orthodox  clergy  met  exile  and  death  for  conscience'  sake. 
Moreover,  the  time-serving  of  the  constitutionals  was  to 
avail  them  little :  during  the  Terror  their  stipends  were 
*  Theiner,  "Hist,  des  deux  Concordats,"  vol.  I.,  p.  21. 


XII  THE  CONCORDAT  261 

unpaid,  and  the  churches  were  for  the  most  part  closed. 
After  a  partial  respite  in  1796-6,  the  coup  d'Stat  of  Fruc- 
tidor  (1797)  again  ushered  in  two  years  of  petty  persecu- 
tions ;  but  in  the  early  summer  of  1799  constitutionals 
were  once  more  allowed  to  observe  the  Christian  Sunday, 
and  at  the  time  of  Bonaparte's  return  from  Egypt  their 
services  were  more  frequented  than  those  of  the  Theophi- 
lanthropists  on  the  dScadis.  It  was  evident,  then,  that 
the  anti-religious  furor  had  burnt  itself  out,  and  that 
France  was  turning  back  to  her  old  faith.  Indeed,  out- 
side Paris  and  a  few  other  large  towns,  public  opinion 
mocked  at  the  new  cults,  and  in  the  country  districts  the 
peasantry  clung  with  deep  affection  to  their  old  orthodox 
priests,  often  following  them  into  the  forest  to  receive 
their  services  and  forsaking  those  of  their  supplanters. 

Such,  then,  was  the  religious  state  of  France  in  1799 : 
her  clergy  were  rent  by  a  formidable  schism  ;  the  ortho- 
dox priests  clung  where  possible  to  their  parishioners, 
or  lived  in  destitution  abroad ;  the  constitutional  priests, 
though  still  frowned  on  by  the  Directory,  were  gaining 
ground  at  the  expense  of  the  Theophilanthropists,  whos 
expiring  efforts  excited  ridicule,  —  in  fine,  a  nation  wear 
of  religious  experiments  and  groping  about  for  some  firm 
anchorage  in  the  midst  of  the  turbid  ebb-tide  and  its 
numerous  backwaters.^ 

Despite  the  absence  of  any  deep  religious  belief,  Bona- 
parte felt  the  need  of  religion  as  the  bulwark  of  morality 
and  the  cement  of  society.  During  his  youth  he  had 
experienced  the  strength  of  Romanism  in  Corsica,  and 
during  his  campaigns  in  Italy  he  saw  with  admiration 
the  zeal  of  the  French  orthodox  priests  who  had  accepted 
exile  and  poverty  for  conscience'  sake.  To  these  outcasts 
he  extended  more  protection  than  was  deemed  compatible 
with  correct  republicanism ;  and  he  received  their  grateful 
thanks.  After  Brumaire  he  suppressed  the  oath  previously 
exacted  from  the  clergy,  and  replaced  it  by  a  promise  of 
fidelity   to  the   constitution.      Many   reasons  have   been 

'  Thibaudeau  estimated  that  of  the  popalation  of  35,000,000  the  follow- 
inf(  assortment  mif^ht  be  made:  Protestants,  Jews,  and  Theophilanthropists, 
3,000,000 ;  Catholics,  15,000,000,  equally  divided  between  orthodox  and 
constitutionals ;  and  as  many  as  17,000,000  professing  no  belief  whatever. 


262  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

assigned  for  this  conduct,  but  doubtless  his  imagination 
was  touched  by  the  sight  of  the  majestic  hierarchy  of 
Rome,  whose  spiritual  powers  still  prevailed,  even  amidst 
the  ruin  of  its  temporal  authority,  and  were  slowly  but 
surely  winning  back  the  ground  lost  in  the  Revolution. 
An  influence  so  impalpable  yet  irresistible,  that  inherited 
from  the  Rome  of  the  Caesars  the  gift  of  organization  and 
the  power  of  maintainin'g  discipline,  in  which  the  Revolu- 
tion was  so  signally  lacking,  might  well  be  the  ally  of  the 
man  who  now  dominated  the  Latin  peoples.  The  pupil 
of  Caesar  could  certainly  not  neglect  the  aid  of  the  spiritual 
hierarchy,  which  was  all  that  remained  of  the  old  Roman 
grandeur. 

Added  to  this  was  his  keen  instinct  for  reality,  which 
led  him  to  scorn  such  whipped-up  creeds  as  Robespierre's 
Supreme  Being  and  that  amazing  hybrid,  Theophilan- 
thropy,  offspring  of  the  Goddess  of  Reason  and  La 
Reveilliere-Lepeaux.  Having  watched  their  manufac- 
ture, rise,  and  fall,  he  felt  the  more  regard  for  the  faith 
of  his  youth,  which  satisfied  one  of  the  most  imperious 
needs  of  his  nature,  a  craving  for  certainty.  Witness  this 
crushing  retort  to  M.  Mathieu  :  "  What  is  your  Theophi- 
lanthropy  ?  Oh,  don't  talk  to  me  of  a  religion  which  only 
takes  me  for  this  life,  without  telling  me  whence  I  come 
or  whither  I  go."  Of  course,  this  does  not  prove  the  re- 
ality of  Napoleon's  religion  ;  but  it  shows  that  he  was  not 
devoid  of  the  religious  instinct. 

The  victory  of  Marengo  enabled  Bonaparte  to  proceed 
with  his  plans  for  an  accommodation  with  the  Vatican ; 
and  he  informed  one  of  the  Lombard  bishops  that  he 
desired  to  open  friendly  relations  with  Pope  Pius  VIL, 
who  was  then  about  to  make  his  entry  into  Rome.  There 
he  received  the  protection  of  the  First  Consul,  and  soon 
recovered  his  sovereignty  over  his  States,  excepting  the 
Legations. 

The  negotiations  between  Paris  and  the  Vatican  were 
transactea  chiefly  by  a  very  able  priest,  Bernier  by  name, 
who  had  gained  the  First  Consul's  confidence  during-  the 
pacification  of  Brittany,  and  now  ur^ed  on  the  envoys  of 
Rome  the  need  of  deferring  to  all  that  was  reasonable  in 
the   French  demands.     The  negotiators  for  the  Vatican 


XII  THE  CONCORDAT  853 

were  Cardinals  Consalvi  and  Caprara,  and  Monseigneur 
Spina  — able  ecclesiastics,  who  were  fitted  to  maintain 
clerical  claims  with  that  mixture  of  suppleness  and  firm- 
ness which  had  so  often  baffled  the  force  and  craft  of 
mighty  potentates.  The  first  difficulty  arose  on  the  ques- 
tion of  the  resignation  of  bishops  of  the  Galilean  Church  : 
Bonaparte  demanded  that,  whether  orthodox  or  constitu- 
tionals, they  must  resign  their  sees  into  the  Pope's  hands ; 
failing  that,  they  must  be  deposed  by  the  papal  authority. 
Sweeping  as  this  proposal  seemed,  Bonaparte  claimed  that 
bishops  of  both  sides  must  resign,  in  order  that  a  satisfac- 
tory selection  might  be  made.  Still  more  imperious  was 
the  need  that  the  Church  should  renounce  all  claim  to  her 
confiscated  domains.  All  classes  of  the  community,  so 
urged  Bonaparte,  had  made  immense  sacrifices  during  the 
Revolution  ;  and  now  that  peasants  were  settled  on  these 
once  clerical  lands,  the  foundations  of  society  would  be 
broken  up  by  any  attempt  to  dispossess  them. 

To  both  of  these  proposals  the  Court  of  Rome  offered  a 
tenacious  resistance.  The  idea  of  compelling  long-perse- 
cuted bishops  to  resign  their  sees  was  no  less  distasteful 
than  the  latter  proposal,  which  involved  acquiescence  in 
sacrilegious  robbery.  At  least,  pleaded  Mgr.  Spina,  let 
tithes  be  re-established.  To  this  request  the  First  Consul 
deigned  no  reply.  None,  indeed,  was  possible  except  a 
curt  refusal.  Few  imposts  had  been  so  detested  as  the 
tithe  ;  and  its  reimposition  would  have  wounded  the 
peasant  class,  on  which  the  First  Consul  based  his  author- 
ity. So  long  as  he  had  their  support  he  could  treat  with 
disdain  the  scoffs  of  the  philosophers  and  even  the  opposi- 
tion of  his  officers  ;  but  to  have  wavered  on  the  subject  of 
tithe  and  of  the  Church  lands  might  have  been  fatal  even 
to  the  victor  of  Marengo.* 

In  fact,  the  difficulty  of  effecting  any  compromise  was 
enormous.  In  seeking  to  reconcile  the  France  of  Rousseau 
and  Robespierre  to  the  unchanging  policy  of  the  Vatican, 
the  ^^  heir  to  the  Revolution ''  was  essaying  a  harder  task 
than  any  military  enterprise.     To  slay  men  has  ever  been 

^See  Roedererf  "(Euvres/'  vol.  Hi.,  p.  476.  On  the  dificontent  of 
the  officers,  see  Pasquier's  **Meni&,"  vol.  i.,  ch.  yU.  ;  also  MarmonVs 
«« Menis.,"  bk.  vL 


264  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

easier  than  to  mould  their  thoughts  anew ;  and  Bonaparte 
was  now  striving  not  only  to  remould  French  thought  but 
also  to  fashion  anew  the  ideas  of  the  Eternal  City.  He 
soon  perceived  that  this  latter  enterprise  was  more  difiS- 
cult  than  the  former.  The  Pope  and  his  councillors  re- 
joiced at  the  signs  of  his  repentance,  but  required  to  see 
the  fruits  thereof.  Instead  of  first-fruits  they  received 
unheard-of  demands  —  the  surrender  of  the  three  Lega-^ 
tionn  fff  R/>lf^gnft,  Ffirri^v^j^^F^^T^riagnftTJ^fl^ 
.of  all  tithes  and  Churchlan5sin  France.  amT  thft  accept- 
ance of  a  compromiftft  with  Rfihiftmati^a.  What  wonder 
that  the  replies  from  Rome  were  couched  in  the  non  pos- 
9umus  terms  which  form  the  last  refuge  of  the  Vatican. 
Finding  that  negotiations  made  no  progress,  Bonaparte 
intrusted  Berthier  and  Murat  to  pay  a  visit  to  Rome  and 
exercise  a  discreet  but  burdensome  pressure  in  the  form  of 
requisitions  for  the  French  troops  in  the  Papal  States. 

The  ratification  of  peace  with  Austria  gave  greater 
weight  to  his  representations  at  Rome,  and  he  endeav- 
oured to  press  on  the  signature  of  the  Concordat,  so  as  to 
startle  the  world  by  the  simultaneous  announcement  of 
the  pacification  of  the  Continent  and  of  the  healing  of  the 
great  religious  schism  in  France.  But  the  clerical  ma- 
chinery worked  too  slowly  to  admit  of  this  projected  c(mp 
de  thSdtre,  In  Bonaparte's  proposals  of  February  25th, 
1801,  there  were  several  demands  already  found  to  be  in- 
admissible at  the  Vatican  ;  ^  and  matters  came  to  a  dead- 
lock until  the  Pope  invested  Spina  with  larger  powers  for 
negotiating  at  Paris.  Consalvi  also  proceeded  to  Paris, 
where  he  was  received  in  state  with  other  ambassadors  at 
the  Tuileries,  the  sight  of  a  cardinal's  robe  causing  no 
little  sensation.  The  First  Consul  granted  him  a  long 
interview,  speaking  at  first  somewhat  seriously,  but  grad- 
ually becoming  more  affable  and  gracious.  Yet  as  his 
behaviour  softened  his  demands  stiffened ;  and  at  the  close 
of  the  audience  he  pressed  Consalvi  to  sign  a  somewhat 
unfavourable  version  of  the  compact  within  five  days, 
otherwise  the  negotiations  would  be  at  an  end  and  a  na- 
tional religion  would  he  adopted  —  an  enterprise  for  which 

1  See  the  drafts  in  Count  Boulay  de  la  Meorthe^s  ^*  N^gociation  da  Con« 
oordat,''  vol.  ii.,  pp.  58  and  268. 


xu  THE  CONCORDAT  256 

the  auguries  promised  complete  success.  At  a  later  inter- 
view he  expressed  the  same  resolution  in  homely  phrase  : 
when  Consalvi  pressed  him  to  take  a  firm  stand  against 
the  "  constitutional "  intruders,  he  laughingly  remarked 
that  he  could  do  no  more  until  he  knew  how  he  stood  with 
Rome  ;  for  ^^  you  know  that  when  one  cannot  arrange 
matters  with  God,  one  comes  to  terms  with  the  devil."  ^ 

This  dalliance  with  the  ^^  constitutionals  "  might  have 
been  more  than  an  astute  ruse,  and  Consalvi  knew  it.  In 
framing  a  national  Church  the  First  Consul  would  have 
appealed  not  only  to  the  old  Galilean  feeling,  still  strong 
among  the  clerics  and  laity,  but  also  to  the  potent  force  of 
French  nationality.  The  experiment  might  have  been  man- 
aged so  as  to  offend  none  but  the  strictest  Catholics,  who 
were  less  to  be  feared  than  the  free-thinkers.  Consalvi  was 
not  far  wrong  when,  writing  of  the  official  world  at  Paris, 
he  said  that  only  Bonaparte  really  desired  a  Concordat. 

The  First  Consul's  motives  in  seeking  the  alliance  of 
Rome  have,  very  naturally,  been  subjected  to  searching 
criticism  ;  and  in  forcing  the  Concordat  on  France,  and 
also  on  Rome,  he  was  certainly  undertaking  the  most 
difficult  negotiation  of  his  life.^  But  his  preference  for 
the  Roman  connection  was  an  act  of  far-reaching  state- 
craft. He  saw  that  a  national  Church,  unrecognized  by 
Rome,  was  a  mere  half-way  house  between  Romanism  and 
Protestantism  ;  and  he  disliked  the  latter  creed  becatise  of 
its  tendency  to  beget  sects  and  to  impair  the  validity  of 
the  general  will.  He  still  retained  enough  of  Rousseau's 
doctrine  to  desire  that  the  general  will  should  be  uniform, 
provided  that  it  could  be  controlled  by  his  own  will.  Such 
uniformity  in  the  sphere  of  religion  was  impossible  unless 
he  had  the  support  of  the  Papacy.  Only  by  a  bargain 
with  Rome  could  he  gain  the  support  of  a  solid  ecclesias- 
tical phalanx.  Finally,  by  erecting  a  French  national 
Church,  he  would  not  only  have  perpetuated  schism  at 
home,  but  would  have  disqualified  himself  for  acting  the 
part  of  Charlemagne  over  Central  and  Southern  Europe. 
To  re-fashion  Europe  in  a  cosmopolitan  mould  he  needed 
a  clerical  police  that  was  more  than  merely  French.     To 

^Theiner,  vol.  I,  pp.  193  and  196. 
^M^neval,  ^'Mems.,"  vol.  L,  p.  81. 


266  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chaf. 

achieve  those  grander  designs  the  successor  of  Caesar  would 
need  the  aid  of  the  successor  of  Peter  ;  and  this  aid  would 
be  granted  only  to  the  restorer  of  Roman  Catholicism  in 
France,  never  to  the  perpetuator  of  schism. 

These  would  seem  to  be  the  chief  reasons  why  he  braved 
public  opinion  in  Paris  and  clung  to  the  Roman  connec- 
tion, bringing  forward  his  plan  of  a  Galilean  Church  only 
as  a  threatening  move  against  the  clerical  flank.  When 
the  Vatican  was  obdurate  he  coquetted  with  the  "  consti- 
tutional" bishops,  allowing  them  every  facility  for  free 
speech  in  a  council  which  they  held  at  Paris  at  the  close  of 
June,  1801.  He  summoned  to  the  Tuileries  their  president, 
the  famous  Gregoire,  and  showed  him  signal  marks  of 
esteem.  "  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes  "  must  soon  have 
been  the  thought  of  Gregoire  and  his  colleagues :  for  a 
fortnight  later  Bonaparte  carried  through  his  treaty  with 
Rome  and  shelved  alike  the  congress  and  the  church  of 
the  "constitutionals." 

It  would  be  tedious  to  detail  all  the  steps  in  this  com- 
plex negotiation,  but  the  final  proceedings  call  for  some 
notice.  When  the  treaty  was  assuming  its  final  form, 
Talleyrand,  the  polite  scoffer,  the  bitter  foe  of  all  clerical 
claims,  found  it  desirable  to  take  the  baths  at  a  distant 
place,  and  left  the  threads  of  the  negotiation  in  the  hands 
of  two  men  who  were  equally  determined  to  prevent  its 
signature,  Maret,  Secretary  of  State,  and  Hauteiige,  who 
afterwards l5SS5.me  the  official  archivist  of  France.  These 
men  determined  to  submit  to  Consalvi  a  draft  of  the  treaty 
differing  widely  from  that  which  had  been  agreed  upon  ; 
and  that,  too,  when  the  official  announcement  had  been 
made  that  the  treaty  was  to  be  signed  immediately.  In 
the  last  hours  the  cardinal  found  himself  confronted  with 
unexpected  conditions,  many  of  which  he  had  successfully 
repelled.  Though  staggered  by  this  trickery,  which  com- 
pelled him  to  sign  a  surrender  or  to  accept  an  open  rupture, 
Consalvi  fought  the  question  over  again  in  a  conference 
that  lasted  twenty-four  hours  ;  he  even  appeared  at  the 
State  dinner  given  on  July  14th  by  the  First  Consul,  who 
informed  him  before  the  other  guests  that  it  was  a  question 
of  "  my  draft  of  the  treaty  or  none  at  all."  Nothing  baffled 
the  patience  and  tenacity  of  the  Cardinal ;  and  finally,  by 


xu  THE  CONCORDAT  267 

the  good  offices  of  Joseph  Bonaparte,  the  objectionable 
demands  thrust  forward  at  the  eleventh  hour  were  removed 
or  altered. 

The  question  has  been  discussed  whether  the  First  Con- 
sul was  a  party  to  this  device.  Theiner  asserts  that  he 
knew  nothing  of  it :  that  it  was  an  official  intrigue  got  up 
at  the  last  moment  by  the  anti-clericals  so  as  to  precipitate 
a  rupture.  In  support  of  this  view,  he  cites  letters  of 
Maret  and  Hauterive  as  inculpating  these  men  and  tend- 
ing to  free  Bonaparte  from  suspicion  of  complicity.  But 
the  letters  cannot  be  said  to  dissipate  all  suspicion.  The 
First  Consul  had  made  this  negotiation  peculiarly  his  own : 
no  officials  assuredly  would  have  dared  secretly  to  foist 
their  own  version  of  an  important  treaty  ;  or,  if  they  did, 
this  act  would  have  been  the  last  of  their  career.  But 
Bonaparte  did  not  disgrace  them  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  con- 
tinued to  honour  them  with  his  confidence.  Moreover,  the 
First  Consul  flew  into  a  passion  with  his  brother  Joseph 
when  he  reported  that  Consalvi  could  not  sign  the  docu- 
ment now  offered  to  him,  and  tore  in  pieces  the  articles 
finally  arranged  with  the  Cardinal.  On  the  return  of  his 
usually  calm  intelligence,  he  at  last  allowed  the  concessions 
to  stand,  with  the  exception  of  two  ;  but  in  a  scrutiny  of 
motives  we  must  assign  most  importance,  not  to  second 
and  more  prudent  thoughts,  but  to  the  first  ebullition  of 
feelings,  which  seem  unmistakably  to  prove  his  knowledge 
and  approval  of  Hauterive's  device.  We  must  therefore 
conclude  that  he  allowed  the  antagonists  of  the  Concordat 
to  make  this  treacherous  onset,  with  the  intention  of  ex- 
torting every  possible  demand  from  the  dazed  and  bewil- 
dered Cardinal.^ 

After   further   delays  the   Concordat  was  ratified  at 

1  Thiers  omits  any  notice  of  this  strange  transaction.  Lanfrey  describee 
it,  but  unfortunately  relies  on  the  melodramatic  version  given  in  Consalvi^s 
**  Memoirs/^  wliich  were  written  many  years  later  and  are  far  less  trust- 
worthy than  the  CardinaPs  letters  written  at  the  time.  In  his  careful 
review  of  all  the  documentary  evidence,  Count  Boulay  de  la  Meurthe  CvoL 
ill.,  p.  201  note)  concludes  that  the  new  project  of  the  Concordat  (No. 
Vni.)  was  drawn  up  by  Hauterive,  was  **  submitted  immediately  to  the 
approbation  of  the  Ilrst  Consul,^*  and  thereupon  formed  the  basis  of  the 
long  and  heated  discussion  of  July  14th  between  the  Papal  and  French 
plenipotentiaries.  A  facsimile  of  this  interesting  document,  with  all  the 
erasures,  is  appended  at  the  end  of  his  volume. 


268  THE  LIFS  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Eastertide,  1802.  It  may  be  briefly  described  as  follows : 
The  French  Govemment  recognized  that  the  Catholic 
apostolic  and  Roman  religion  was  the  religion  of  the  great 
majority  of  the  French  people, "  especially  of  the  Consuls  " ; 
but  it  refused  to  declare  it  to  be  the  religion  of  France,  as 
was  the  case  under  the  ancien  rSgime.  It  was  to  be  freely 
and  publicly  practised  in  France,  subject  to  the  police 
reflations  that  the  Government  judged  necessary  for  the 
public  tranquillity.  In  return  for  these  great  advantages, 
many  concessions  were  expected  from  the  Church.  The 
present  bishops,  both  orthodox  and  constitutional,  were,  at 
the  Pope's  invitation,  to  resign  their  sees  ;  or,  failing  that, 
new  appointments  were  to  be  made,  as  if  the  sees  were 
vacant.  The  last  proviso  was  necessary ;  for  of  the 
eighty-one  surviving  bishops  affected  by  this  decision  as 
many  as  thirteen  orthodox  and  two  '' constitutionals " 
offered  persistent  but  unayailing  protests .  against  the 
action  of  the  Pope  and  First  Consul. 

A  new  division  of  archbishoprics  and  bishoprics  was  now 
made,  which  gave  in  all  sixty  sees  to  France.  The  First 
Consul  enjoyed  the  right  of  nomination  to  them,  where- 
upon the  Pope  bestowed  canonical  investiture.  The  arch- 
bishops and  bishops  were  all  to  take  an  oath  of  fidelity  to 
the  constitution.  The  bishops  nominated  the  lower  clerics 
provided  that  they  were  acceptable  to  the  Government : 
all  alike  bound  themselves  to  watch  over  governmental 
interests.  The  stability  of  France  was  further  assured  by 
a  clause  granting  complete  and  permanent  security  to  the 
holders  of  the  confiscated  Church  lands  —  a  healmg  and 
salutary  compromise  which  restored  peace  to  every  village 
and  soothed  the  qualms  of  many  a  troubled  conscience. 
On  its  side,  the  State  undertook  to  furnish  suitable  sti- 
pends to  the  clergy,  a  promise  which  was  fulfilled  in  a 
rather  niggardly  spirit.  For  the  rest,  the  First  Consul 
enjoyed  the  same  consideration  as  the  Kings  of  France  in 
all  matters  ecclesiastical ;  and  a  clause  was  added,  though 
Bonaparte  declared  it  needless,  that  if  any  succeeding  First 
Consul  were  not  a  Roman  Catholic,  his  prerogatives  in 
religious  matters  should  be  revised  by  a  Convention.  A 
similar  Concordat  was  passed  a  little  later  for  the  pacifi- 
cation of  the  Cisalpine  Republic. 


XII  THE  CONCORDAT  269 

The  Concordat  was  bitterly  assailed  by  the  Jacobins, 
especially  by  the  military  chiefs,  and  had  not  the  infidel 
generals  been  for  the  most  part  sundered  by  mutual  jeal- 
ousies they  might  perhaps  have  overthrown  Bonaparte. 
But  their  obvious  incapacity  for  civil  affairs  enabled  them 
to  ventui'e  on  nothing  more  than  a  few  coarse  jests  and 
clumsy  demonstrations.  At  the  Easter  celebration  at 
Notre  Dame  in  honour  of  the  ratification  of  the  Con- 
cordat, one  of  them,  Delmas  by  name,  ventured  on  the 
only  protest  barbed  with  telling  satire :  "  Yes,  a  fine 
piece  of  monkery  this,  indeed.  It  only  lacked  the  mill- 
ion men  who  got  killed  to  destroy  what  you  are  striving 
to  bring  back."  But  to  all  protests  Bonaparte  opposed  a 
calm  behaviour  that  veiled  a  rigid  determination,  before 
which  priests  and  soldiers  were  alike  helpless. 

In  subsequent  articles  styled  '^organic,"  Bonaparte, 
without  consulting  the  Pope,  made  several  laws  that 
galled  the  orthodox  clergy.  Under  the  plea  of  legislating 
for  the  police  of  public  worship,  he  reaffirmed  some  of  the 
principles  which  he  had  been  unable  to  incorporate  in  the 
Concordat  itself.  The  organic  articles  asserted  the  old 
claims  of  the  Gallican  Church,  which  forbade  the  appli- 
cation of  Papal  Bulls,  or  of  the  decrees  of  ** foreign" 
synods,  to  France :  they  further  forbade  the  French 
bishops  to  assemble  in  council  or  synod  without  the  per- 
mission of  the  Government ;  and  this  was  also  required 
for  a  bishop  to  leave  his  diocese,  even  if  he  were  sum- 
moned to  Rome.  Such  were  the  chief  of  the  organic 
articles.  Passed  under  the  plea  of  securing  public  tran- 
quillity, they  ptoved  a  fruitful  source  of  discord,  which 
during  the  Empire  became  so  acute  as  to  weaken  Napo- 
leon's authority.  In  matters  religious  as  well  as  political, 
he  early  revealed  his  chief  moral  and  mental  defect,  a 
determination  to  carry  his  point  by  whatever  means  and 
to  require  the  utmost  in  every  bargain.  While  refusing 
fully  to  establish  Roman  Catholicism  as  the  religion  of 
the  State,  he  compelled  the  Church  to  surrender  its  tem- 
poralities, to  accept  the  regulations  of  the  State,  and  to 
protect  its  interests.  Truly  if,  in  Chateaubriand's  famous 
phrase,  he  was  the  '^  restorer  of  the  altars,"  he  exacted  the 
utterrmost  farthing  for  that  restoration. 


260  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ghaf. 

In  one  matter  his  clear  intelligence  stands  forth  in 
marked  contrast  to  the  narrow  pedantry  of  the  Roman 
Cardinals.  At  a  time  of  reconciliation  between  orthodox 
and  '^  constitutionals,"  they  required  from  the  latter  a 
complete  and  public  retractation  of  their  recent  errors.  At 
once  Bonaparte  intervened  with  telling  effect.  So  con- 
dign a  humiliation,  he  argued,  would  sdtogether  mar  the 
harmony  newly  re-established.  ^^  The  past  is  past :  and 
the  bishops  and  prefects  ought  to  require  from  tiie  priests 
only  the  declaration  of  adhesion  to  the  Concordat,  and  of 
obedience  to  the  bishop  nominated  by  the  First  Consul 
and  instituted  by  the  Pope."  This  enlightened  advice, 
backed  up  by  irresistible  power,  carried  the  day,  and 
some  ten  thousand  constitutional  priests  were  quietly 
received  back  into  the  Roman  communion,  those  who  had 
contracted  marriages  being  compelled  to  put  away  their 
wives.  Bonaparte  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  reconstruc- 
tion of  dioceses,  in  the  naming  of  churches,  and  similar 
details,  doubtless  with  the  full  consciousness  that  the 
revival  of  the  Roman  religious  discipline  in  France  was  a 
more  important  service  than  any  feat  of  arms. 

He  was  right :  in  healing  a  great  schism  in  France  he 
was  dealing  a  deadly  blow  at  the  revolutionary  feeling  of 
which  it  was  a  prominent  manifestation.  In  the  words 
of  one  of  his  Ministers,  **  The  Concordat  was  the  most 
brilliant  triumph  over  the  genius  of  Revolution,  and  all 
the  following  successes  have  without  exception  resulted 
from  it."  ^  After  this  testimony  it  is  needless  to  ask  why 
Bonaparte  did  not  take  up  with  Protestantism.  At  St. 
Helena,  it  is  true,  he  asserted  that  the  choice  of  Catholi- 
cism or  Protestantism  was  entirely  open  to  him  in  1801, 
and  that  the  nation  would  have  followed  him  in  either 

1  Pasqnier,  **  Mema./'  vol.  i.,  oh.  vlL  Two  of  the  organic  articles  por- 
tended the  abolition  of  the  revolationary  calendar.  The  first  restored  the 
old  names  of  the  days  of  the  week ;  the  second  ordered  that  Sunday 
i^ould  be  the  day  of  rest  for  all  public  functionaries.  The  obseryanoe  of 
dic(idi8  thenceforth  ceased ;  but  the  months  of  the  reyolutionary  calendar 
were  observed  until  the  close  of  the  year  1805.  Theophilanthropy  was 
similarly  treated :  when  its  votaries  applied  for  a  buildhig,  their  request 
was  refused  on  the  ground  that  their  cult  came  within  the  domain  of  phi- 
losophy, not  of  any  actual  religion  I  A  small  number  of  priests  and  of 
their  parishioners  refused  to  recognize  the  Concordat ;  and  even  to-day 
there  are  a  few  of  these  antirconcwrdatairea. 


xn  THE  CONCORDAT  261 

direction :  but  his  religious  policy,  if  carefully  examined, 
shows  no  sign  of  wavering  on  this  subject,  though  he 
onQe  or  twice  made  a  strategic  diversion  towards  Geneva, 
when  Rome  showed  too  firm  a  front.  Is  it  conceivable 
that  a  man  who,  as  he  informed  Joseph,  was  systemati- 
cally working  to  found  a  dynasty,  shoiQd  hesitate  in  the 
choice  of  a  governmental  creed  ?  Is  it  possible  to  think 
of  the  great  champion  of  external  control  and  State  disci- 
pline as  a  defender  of  liberty  of  conscience  and  the  right 
of  private  judgment  ? 

The  regulation  of  the  Protestant  cult  in  France  was  a 
far  less  arduous  task.  But  as  Bonaparte^s  aim  was  to 
attach  all  cults  to  the  State,  he  decided  to  recognize  the 
two  chief  Protestant  bodies  in  France,  Calvinists  and 
Lutherans,  allowing  them  to  choose  their  own  pastors 
and  to  regulate  their  affairs  in  consistories.  The  pastors 
were  to  be  salaried  by  the  State,  but  in  return  the  Govern- 
ment not  only  reserved  its  approval  of  every  appoint- 
ment, but  required  the  Protestant  bodies  to  have  no 
relations  whatever  with  any  foreign  Power  or  authority. 
The  organic  articles  of  1802,  which  defined  the  position 
of  the  Protestant  bodies,  form  a  very  important  landmark 
in  the  history  of  the  followers  of  Luther  and  Calvin. 
Persecuted  by  Louis  XIV.  and  XV.,  they  were  tolerated 
by  Louis  X Vl. ;  they  gained  complete  religious  equality 
in  1789,  and  after  a  few  years  of  anarchy  in  matters  of 
faith,  they  found  themselves  suddenly  and  stringently 
bound  to  the  State  by  the  organizing  genius  of  Bonaparte. 

In  the  years  1806-1808  the  position  of  the  Jews  was 
likewise  defined,  at  least  for  all  those  who  recognized 
France  as  their  country,  performed  all  civic  duties,  and 
recognized  all  the  laws  of  the  State.  In  consideration 
of  their  paying  full  taxes  and  performing  military  service, 
they  received  official  protection  and  their  rabbis  govern- 
mental support. 

Such  was  Bonaparte's  policy  on  religious  subjects. 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  its  motive  was,  in  the 
main,  political.  This  methodizing  genius,  who  looked 
on  the  beliefs  and  passions,  the  desires  and  ambitions  of 
mankind,  as  so  many  forces  which  were  to  aid  him  in  his 
ascent,  had  already  satisfied  the  desires  for  military  glory 


262  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

and  material  prosperity;  and  in  his  bargain  with  Rome 
he  now  won  the  support  of  an  organized  priesthood, 
besides  that  of  the  smaller  Protestant  and  Jewish  com- 
munions. That  he  gained  also- peace  and  quietness  for 
France  may  be  granted,  though  it  was  at  the  expense  of 
that  mental  alertness  and  independence  which  had  been 
her  chief  intellectual  glory;  but  none  of  his  intimate 
acquaintances  ever  doubted  that  his  religion  was  only  a 
vague  sentiment,  and  his  attendance  at  mass  merely  a 

compliment  to  his  ** sacred  gendarmerie."^  ^ 

-M^  fuA&<  |jrv%^  <^ 

Having  dared  and  achieved  the  exploit  of  organizing 
religion  in  a  half-infidel  society,  the  First  Consul  was 
ready  to  undertake  the  almost  equally  hazardous  task  of 
establishing  an  order  of  social  distinction,  and  that  too  in 
the  very  land  where  less  than  eight  years  previously 
every  title  qualified  its  holder  for  the  guillotine.  For  his 
new  experiment,  the  Legion  of  Honour,  he  could  adduce 
only  one  precedent  in  the  acts  of  the  last  twelve  years. 
The  whole  tendency  had  been  towards  levelling  all  in- 
equalities. In  1790  all  titles  of  nobility  were  swept  away; 
and  though  the  Convention  decreed  "  arms  of  honour  "  to 
brave  soldiers,  yet  its  generosity  to  the  deserving  proved 
to  be  less  remarkable  than  its  activity  in  guillotining  the 
unsuccessful.  Bonaparte,  however,  adduced  its  custom 
of  granting  occasional  modest  rewards  as  a  precedent  for 
his  own  design,  which  was  to  be  far  more  extended  and 
ambitious. 

In  May,  1802,  he  proposed  the  formation  of  a  Legion 
of  Honour,  organized  in  fifteen  cohorts,  with  grand  officers, 
commanders,  officers,  and  legionaries.  Its  affairs  were  to 
be  regulated  by  a  council  presided  over  by  Bonaparte 
himself.  Each  cohort  received  "national  domains"  with 
200,000  francs  annual  rental,  and  these  funds  were  dis- 
bursed to  the  members  on  a  scale  proportionate  to  their 
rank.  The  men  who  had  received  "  arms  of  honour  "  were, 
ipsofacto^  to  be  legionaries  ;  soldiers  "who  had  rendered 
considerable  services  to  the  State  in  the  war  of  liberty," 

iChaptal,  **  Souvenirs,"  pp.  237-289.  Lucien  Bonaparte,  "Mems.," 
vol.  ii.,  p.  201,  quotes  his  brother  Joseph's  opinion  of  the  Concordat: 
**Un  pas  retrograde  et  irr^fl^hi  de  la  nation  qui  B*y  soumettait.'* 


xn  THE  LEGION  OF  HONOUR  268 

and  civilians  *'  who  by  their  learning,  talents,  and  virtues 
contributed  to  establish  or  to  defend  the  principles  of  the 
Republic,"  might  hope  for  the  honour  and  reward  now  held 
out.  The  idea  of  rewarding  merit  in  a  civilian,  as  well  as 
c^ong  the  military  caste  which  had  hitherto  almost  entirely 
absorbed  such  honours,  was  certainly  enlightened;  and  the 
names  of  the  famous  savants  Laplace,  Monge,  Berthollet, 
Lagrange,  Chaptal,  and  of  jurists  such  as  Treilhard  and 
Tronchet,  imparted  lustre  to  what  would  otherwise  have 
been  a  very  commonplace  institution.  Bonaparte  desired 
to  call  out  all  the  faculties  of  the  nation ;  and  when  Dumas 
proposed  that  the  order  should  be  limited  to  soldiers, 
the  First  Consul  replied  in  a  brilliant  and  convincing 
harangue  : 

**  To  do  great  things  nowadays  it  is  not  enough  to  be  a  man  of  five 
feet  ten  inches.  If  strength  and  bravery  m^e  the  general,  every 
soldier  might  claim  the  command.  The  general  who  does  great 
things  is  he  who  also  possesses  civil  qualities.  The  soldier  knows  no  law 
but  force,  sees  nothing  but  it,  and  measures  everything  by  it  The 
civilian,  on  the  other  hand,  only  looks  to  the  general  welfare.  The 
characteristic  of  the  soldier  is  to  wish  to  do  everything  despotically : 
that  of  the  civilian  is  to  submit  everything  to  discussion,  truth,  and 
reason.    The  superiority  thus  unquestionably  belongs  to  the  civilian." 

In  these  noble  words  we  can  discern  the  secret  of  Bona- 
parte's supremacy  both  in  politics  and  in  warfare.  Unit- 
ing in  his  own  person  the  ablest  qualities  of  the  statesman 
and  the  warrior,  he  naturally  desired  that  his  new  order 
of  merit  should  quicken  the  vitality  of  France  in  every 
direction,  knowing  full  well  that  the  results  would  speedily 
be  felt  in  the  army  itself.  When  admitted  to  its  ranks, 
the  new  member  swore  : 

<*  To  devote  himself  to  the  service  of  the  Republic,  to  the  mainte- 
nance of  the  integrity  of  its  territory,  the  defence  of  its  government, 
laws,  and  of  the  property  which  they  have  consecrated ;  to  fight  by 
all  methods  authorized  by  justice,  reason,  and  law,  against  every 
attempt  to  re-establish  the  feudal  regime,  or  to  reproduce  tne  titles  and 
qualities  thereto  belonging;  and  finally  to  strive  to  the  uttermost  to 
maintain  liberty  and  equality." 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  Tribunate,  despite  the 
recent  purging  of  its  most  independent  members,  judged 
liberty  and  equality  to  be  endangered  by  the  method  of 


264  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chaf. 

defence  now  proposed.  The  members  bitterly  criticised 
the  scheme  as  a  device  of  the  counter-revolution ;  but, 
with  the  timid  inconsequence  which  was  already  sapping 
their  virility,  they  proceeded  to  pass  by  fifty-six  votes  to 
thirty-eight  a  measure  of  which  they  had  so  accurately 
gauged  the  results.  The  new  institution  was,  indeed,  admi- 
rably suited  to  consolidate  Bonaparte^s  power.  Resting  on 
the  financial  basis  of  the  confiscated  lands,  it  offered  some 
guarantee  against  the  restoration  of  the  old  monarchy  and 
feudal  nobility ;  while,  by  stimulating  that  love  of  distinc- 
tion and  brilliance  which  is  inherent  in  every  gifted 
people,  it  quietly  began  to  graduate  society  and  to  group 
it  around  the  Paladins  of  a  new  Gaulish  chivalry.  The 
people  had  recently  cast  off  the  overlordship  of  the  old 
Frankisb  nobles,  but  admiration  of  merit  (the  ultimate 
source  of  all  titles  of  distinction)  was  only  dormant  even 
in  the  days  of  Robespierre;  and  its  insane  repression 
during  the  Terror  now  begat  a  corresponding  enthusiasm 
for  all  commanding  gifts.  Of  this  inevitable  reaction 
Bonaparte  now  made  skilful  use.  When  Berlier,  one  of 
the  leading  jurists  of  France,  objected  to  the  new  order  as 
leading  France  back  to  aristocracy,  and  contemptuously 
said  that  crosses  and  ribbons  were  the  toys  of  monarchy, 
Bonaparte  replied : 

"  Well :  men  are  led  by  toys.  I  would  not  say  that  in  a  rostrum, 
but  in  a  council  of  wise  men  and  statesmen  one  ought  to  speak  one's 
mind.  I  don't  think  that  the  French  love  liberty  and  equality :  the 
French  are  not  at  all  changed  by  ten  years  of  revolution :  they  ape 
what  the  Gauls  were,  fierce  and  fickle.  They  have  one  feeling  — 
honour.  We  must  nourish  that  feeling :  they  must  have  distinctions. 
See  how  they  bow  down  before  the  stars  of  strangers."  ^ 

After  so  frank  an  exposition  of  motives  to  his  own  Coun- 
cil of  State,  little  more  need  be  said.  We  need  not  credit 
Bonaparte  or  the  orators  of  the  Tribunate  with  any  super- 
human sagacity  when  he  and  they  foresaw  that  such  an 
order  would  prepare  the  way  for  more  resplendent  titles. 
The  Legion  of  Honour,  at  least  in  its  highest  grades,  was 
the  chrysalis  stage  of  the  Imperial  noblesse.  After  all, 
the  new  Charlemagne  might  plead  that  his  new  creation 

^  Thibaudeau,  ^*-  Consulat,*'  ch.  xzyL 


xn  THE  CODE  NAPOLEON  266 

satisfied  an  innate  craving  of  the  race,  and  that  its  dura- 
bility was  the  best  answer  to  hostile  critics.  Even  when, 
in  1814,  his  Senators  were  offering  the  crown  of  France 
to  the  heir  of  the  Bourbons,  they  expressly  stipulated  that 
the  Legion  of  Honour  should  not  be  abolished :  it  has  sur- 
vived ail  the  shocks  of  French  history,  even  the  vulgariz- 
ing associations  of  the  Second  Empire. 

The  same  quality  of  almost  pyramidal  solidity  charac- 
terizes another  great  enterprise  of  the  Napoleonic  period, 
the  codification  of  French  law. 

The  difficulties  of  this  undertaking  consisted  mainly 
in  the  enormous  mass  of  decrees  emanating  from  the 
National  Assemblies,  relative  to  political,  civil,  and 
criminal  affairs.  Many  of  those  decrees,  the  offspring  of 
a  momentary  enthusiasm,  had  found  a  place  in  the  codes 
of  laws  which  were  then  compiled ;  and  yet  sagacious 
observers  knew  that  several  of  them  warred  against  the 
instincts  of  the  Gallic  race.  This  conviction  was  summed 
up  in  the  trenchant  statement  of  the  compilers  of  the  new 
code,  in  which  they  appealed  from  the  ideas  of  Rousseau 
to  the  customs  of  the  past :  '*  New  theories  are  but  the 
maxims  of  certain  individuals :  the  old  maxims  represent 
the  sense  of  centuries."  There  was  much  force  in  this 
dictum.  The  overthrow  of  Feudalism  and  the  old  mon- 
archy had  not  permanently  altered  the  French  nature. 
They  were  still  the  same  joyous,  artistic,  clan-loving  peo- 
ple whom  the  Latin  historians  described  :  and  pride  in  the 
nation  or  the  family  was  as  closely  linked  with  respect  for 
a  doughty  champion  of  national  and  family  interests  as  in 
the  days  of  Caesar.  Of  this  Roman  or  quasi-Gallic  reac- 
tion Napoleon  was  to  be  the  regulator  ;  and  no  sphere  of 
his  activities  bespeaks  his  unerring  political  sagacity  more 
than  his  sifting  of  the  old  and  the  new  in  the  great  code 
which  was  afterwards  to  bear  his  name. 

Old  French  law  had  been  an  inextricable  labyrinth  of 
laws  and  customs,  mainly  Roman  and  Frankish  in  origin, 
hopelessly  tangled  by  feudal  customs,  provincial  privileges, 
ecclesiastical  rights,  and  the  later  undergrowth  of  royal 
decrees  ;  and  no  part  of  the  legislation  of  the  revolu- 
tionists met  with  so  little  resistance   as  their  root  and 


266  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

branch  destruction  of  this  exasperating  jungle.  Their 
difficulties  only  began  when  they  endeavoured  to  apply  the 
principles  of  the  Rights  of  Man  to  political,  civil,  and 
criminal  affairs.  The  chief  of  these  principles  relating  to 
criminal  law  were  that  law  can  only  forbid  actions  that 
are  harmful  to  society,  and  must  only  impose  penalties 
that  are  strictly  necessary.  To  these  epoch-making  pro- 
nouncements the  Assembly  added,  in  1790,  that  crimes 
should  be  visited  only  on  tne  guilty  individual,  not  on  the 
family;  and  that  penalties  must  be  proportioned  to  the 
offences.  The  last  two  of  these  principles  had  of  late  been 
flagrantly  violated ;  but  the  general  pacification  of  France 
now  permitted  a  calm  consideration  of  the  whole  question 
of  criminal  law,  and  of  its  application  to  normal  con- 
ditions. 

Civil  law  was  to  be  greatly  influenced  by  the  Rights 
of  Man  ;  but  those  famous  declarations  were  to  a  large 
extent  contravened  in  the  ensuing  civil  strifes,  and  their 
application  to  real  life  was  rendered  infinitely  more  diffi- 
cult by  that  predominance  of  the  critical  over  the  construc- 
tive faculties  which  marred  the  efforts  of  the  revolutionary 
Babel-builders.  Indeed,  such  was  the  ardour  of  those 
enthusiasts  that  they  could  scarcely  see  any  difficulties. 
Thus,  the  Convention  in  1793  allowed  its  legislative  com- 
mittee just  one  month  for  the  preparation  of  a  code  of 
civil  law.  At  the  close  of  six  weeks  Cambaceres,  the 
reporter  of  the  committee,  was  actually  able  to  announce 
that  it  was  ready.  It  was  found  to  be  too  complex. 
Another  commission  was  ordered  to  reconstruct  it:  this 
time  the  Convention  discovered  that  the  revised  edition 
was  too  concise.  Two  other  drafts  were  drawn  up  at  the 
orders  of  the  Directory,  but  neither  gave  satisfaction. 
And  thus  it  was  reserved  for  the  First  Consul  to  achieve 
what  the  revolutionists  had  only  begun,  building  on  the 
foundations  and  with  the  very  materials  which  their  ten 
years'  toil  had  prepared. 

He  had  many  other  advantages.  The  Second  Consul, 
Cambaceres,  was  at  his  side,  with  stores  of  legal  experi- 
ence and  habits  of  complaisance  that  were  of  the  highest 
value.  Then,  too,  the  principles  of  personal  liberty  and 
social  equality  were  yielding  ground  before  the  more  auto- 


xii  THE  CODE  NAPOLftON  267 

cratic  maxims  of  Roman  law.  The  view  of  life  now 
dominant  was  that  of  the  warrior,  not  of  the  philosopher. 
Bonaparte  named  Tronchet,  Bigot  de  Preameneu,  and  the 
eloquent  and  learned  Portalis  for  the  redaction  of  the 
code.  By  ceaseless  toil  they  completed  their  first  draft 
in  four  months.  Then,  after  receiving  the  criticisms  of  the 
Court  of  Cassation  and  the  Tribunals  of  Appeal,  it  came 
before  the  Council  of  State  for  the  decision  of  its  special 
committee  on  legislation.  There  it  was  subjected  to  the 
scrutiny  of  several  experts,  but,  above  all,  to  Bonaparte 
himself.  He  presided  at  more  than  half  of  the  102  sit- 
tings devoted  to  this  criticism  ;  and  sittings  of  eight  or 
nine  hours  were  scarcely  long  enough  to  satisfy  his  eager 
curiosity,  his  relentless  activity,  and  his  determined 
practicality. 

From  the  notes  of  Thibaudeau,  one  of  the  members  of 
this  revising  committee,  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  part 
there  played  by  the  First  Consul.  We  see  him  listening 
intently  to  the  discussions  of  the  jurists,  taking  up  and 
sorting  the  threads  of  thought  when  a  tangle  seemed 
imminent,  and  presenting  the  result  in  some  striking  pat- 
tern. We  watch  his  methodizing  spirit  at  work  on  the 
cumbrous  legal  phraseology,  hammering  it  out  into  clear, 
ductile  French.  We  feel  the  unerring  sagacity,  which 
acted  as  a  political  and  social  touchstone,  testing,  approv- 
ing, or  rejecting  multifarious  details  drawn  from  old 
French  law  or  from  the  customs  of  the  Revolution ;  and 
finally  we  wonder  at  the  architectural  skill  which  worked 
the  2,281  articles  of  the  Code  into  an  almost  unassailable 
pile.  To  the  skill  and  patience  of  the  three  chief  redac- 
tors that  result  is,  of  course,  very  largely  due  :  yet,  in  its 
mingling  of  strength,  simplicity,  and  symmetry,  we  may 
discern  the  projection  of  Napoleon's  genius  over  what  had 
hitherto  been  a  legal  chaos. 

Some  blocks  of  the  pyramid  were  almost  entirely  his 
own.  He  widened  the  area  of  French  citizenship  ;  above 
all,  he  strengthened  the  structure  of  the  family  by  enhanc- 
ing the  father's  authority.  Herein  his  Corsican  instincts 
and  the  requirements  of  statecraft  led  him  to  undo  much 
of  the  legislation  of  the  revolutionists.  Their  ideal  was 
individusd  liberty :  his  aim  was  to  establish  public  order 


268  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

by  autocratic  methods.  They  had  sought  to  make  of  the 
family  a  little  republic,  founded  on  the  principles  of  lib- 
erty and  equality ;  but  in  the  new  Code  the  paternal  author- 
ity reappeared  no  less  strict,  albeit  less  severe  in  some 
details,  than  that  of  the  ancien  regime.  The  family  was 
thenceforth  modelled  on  the  idea  dominant  in  the  State  that 
authority  and  responsible  action  pertained  to  a  single  indi- 
vidual. The  father  controlled  the  conduct  of  his  chil- 
dren :  his  consent  was  necessary  for  the  marriage  of  sons 
up  to  their  twenty-fifth  year,  for  that  of  daughters  up  to 
their  twenty-first  year ;  and  other  regulations  were  framed 
in  the  same  spirit.^  Thus  there  was  rebuilt  in  France  the 
institution  of  the  family  on  an  almost  Roman  basis ;  and 
these  customs,  contrasting  sharply  with  the  domestic  an- 
archy of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  have  had  a  mighty  influ- 
ence in  fashioning  the  character  of  the  French,  as  of  the 
other  Latin  peoples,  to  a  ductility  that  yields  a  ready  obe- 
dience to  local  officials,  drill-sergeants,  and  the  central 
Government. 

In  other  respects  Bonaparte^s  influence  on  the  code  was 
equally  potent.  He  raised  the  age  at  which  marriage 
could  be  legally  contracted  to  that  of  eighteen  for  men, 
and  fifteen  for  women,  and  he  prescribed  a  formula  of 
obedience  to  be  repeated  by  the  bride  to  her  husband; 
whUe  the  latter  was  bound  to  protect  and  support  the 
wife.^ 

And  yet,  on  the  question  of  divorce,  Bonaparte's  action 
was  sufficiently  ambiguous  to  reawaken  Josephine's  fears ; 
and  the  detractors  of  the  great  man  have  some  ground  for 
declaring  that  his  action  herein  was  dictated  by  personal 

1  **  Code  NapoWon,»»  art  148. 

'  In  other  respects  also  Bonaparte^s  inflnence  was  used  to  depress  the 
legal  status  of  woman,  which  the  men  of  1789  had  done  so  much  to  raise. 
In  his  curious  letter  of  May  15th,  1807,  on  the  Institution  at  Ecouen, 
we  have  his  ideas  on  a  sound,  useful  education  for  girls  :**...  We  must 
begin  with  religion  in  idl  its  severity.  Do  not  admit  any  modification  of 
this.  Religion  is  very  important  in  a  girls^  public  school :  it  is  the  surest 
guarantee  for  mothers  and  husbands.  We  must  train  up  belieyers,  not 
reasoners.  The  weakness  of  women^s  brains,  the  unsteadiness  of  their 
ideas,  their  function  in  the  social  order,  their  need  of  constant  resigna- 
tion and  of  a  kind  of  indulgent  and  easy  charity  —  all  can  only  be  attained 
by  religion.*^  They  were  to  learn  a  little  geography  and  history,  but  no 
foreign  language ;  above  all,  to  do  plenty  of  needlework. 


xu  THE  CODE  NAPOLEON  269 

considerations.  Others  again  may  point  to  the  declara- 
tions of  the  French  National  Assemblies  that  the  law 
regarded  marriage  merely  as  a  civil  contract,  and  that 
divorce  was  to  be  a  logical  sequel  of  individual  liberty, 
*^  which  an  indissoluble  tie  would  annul."  It  is  indisputa- 
ble that  extremely  lax  customs  had  been  the  result  of  the 
law  of  1792,  divorce  being  allowed  on  a  mere  declaration 
of  incompatibility  of  temper.^  Against  these  scandals 
Bonaparte  firmly  set  his  face.  But  he  disagreed  with  the 
framers  of  the  new  Code  when  they  proposed  altogether 
to  prohibit  divorce,  though  such  a  proposition  might  well 
have  seemed  consonant  with  his  zeal  for  Roman  Catholi- 
cism. After  long  debates  it  was  decided  to  reduce  the 
causes  which  could  render  divorce  possible  from  nine  to 
four  —  adultery,  cruelty,  condemnation  to  a  degrading 
penalty,  and  mutual  consent — provided  that  this  last 
demand  should  be  persistently  urged  after  not  less  than 
two  years  of  marriage,  and  in  no  case  was  it  to  be  valid 
after  twenty  years  of  marriage.^ 

We  may  also  notice  here  that  Bonaparte  sought  to  sur- 
round the  act  of  adoption  with  much  solemnity,  declaring 
it  to  be  one  of  the  grandest  acts  imaginable.  Yet,  lest 
marriage  should  thereby  be  discouraged,  celibates  were 
expressly  debarred  from  the  privileges  of  adopting  heirs. 
The  precaution  shows  how  keenly  this  able  ruler  peered 
into  the  future.  Doubtless,  he  surmised  that  in  the  future 
the  population  of  France  could  cease  to  expand  at  the  nor- 
mal rate,  owing  to  the  working  of  the  law  compelling  the 
equal  division  of  property  among  all  the  children  of  a 
family.  To  this  law  he  was  certainly  opposed.  Equality 
in  regard  to  the  bequest  of  property  was  one  of  the  sacred 
maxims  of  revolutionary  jurists,  who  had  limited  the  right 
of  free  disposal  by  bequest  to  one-tenth  of  each  estate: 
nine-tenths  being  of  necessity  divided  equally  among  the 
direct  heirs.  Yet  so  strong  was  the  reaction  in  favour  of 
the  Roman  principle  of  paternal  authority,  that  Bonaparte 
and  a  majority  of  the  drafters  of  the  new  Code  scrupled 
not  to  assail  that  maxim,  and  to  claim  for  the  father  larger 
discretionary  powers  over  the  disposal  of  his  property. 

I  Sagnac,  '*  Legislation  civile  de  la  R4v.  Fr./*  p.  293. 

3  Divorce  waa  suppreased  in  1816,  but  was  re-established  in  1884. 


270  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

They  demanded  that  the  disposable  share  should  vary 
according  to  the  wealth  of  the  testator — a  remarkable 

Proposal,  which  proves  him  to  be  anything  but  the  un- 
inching  champion  of  revolutionary  legal   ideas  which 
popular  French  histories  have  generally  depicted  him. 

This  proposal  would  have  re-established  liberty  of 
bequest  in  its  most  pernicious  form,  granting  almost  limit- 
less discretionary  power  to  the  wealthy,  while  restricting 
or  denying  it  to  the  poor.^  Fortunately  for  his  reputation 
in  France,  the  suggestion  was  rejected ;  and  the  law,  as 
finally  adopted,  fixed  the  disposable  share  as  one-fourth 
of  the  property  :  it  was  never  to  be  more  than  one-fourth, 
and  it  might  be  less  if  there  were  more  than  three 
children,  diminishing  as  the  size  of  the  family  increased. 
This  sliding  scale,  varjring  inversely  with  the  size  of  the 
family,  is  open  to  an  obvious  objection:  it  granted 
liberty  of  bequest  only  in  cases  where  the  family  was 
small,  but  practically  lapsed  when  the  family  attained 
to  patriarchal  dimensions.  The  natural  result  has  been 
that  the  birth-rate  has  suffered  a  serious  and  prolonged 
check  in  France.  It  seems  certain  that  the  First  Consul 
foresaw  this  result.  His  experience  of  peasant  life  must 
have  warned  him  that  the  law,  even  as  now  amended, 
would  stunt  the  population  of  France  and  ultimately 
bring  about  that  oXiyavdpm'jrla  which  saps  all  great  mili- 
tary enterprises.  The  great  captain  did  all  in  his  power 
to  prevent  the  French  settling  down  in  a  self-contained 
national  life;  he  strove  to  stir  them  up  to  world-wide 
undei*takings,  and  for  the  success  of  his  future  imperial 
schemes  a  redundant  population  was  an  absolute  necessity. 
The  Civil  Code  became  law  in  1804 :  after  undergoing 
some  slight  modifications  and  additions,  it  was,  in  1807, 
renamed  the  Code  Napoleon.  Its  provisions  had  already, 
in  1806,  been  adopted  in  Italy.  In  1810  Holland,  and  the 
newly-annexed  coast-line  of  the  North  Sea  as  far  as 
Hamburg,  and  even  Liibeck  on  the  Baltic,  received  it  as 
the  basis  of  their  laws,  as  did  the  Grand  Duchy  of  Berg 
in  1811.  Indirectly  it  has  also  exerted  an  immense 
influence  on  the  legislation  of  Central  and  Southern 
Oermany,  Prussia,  Switzerland,  and  Spain:  while  many 

^  Sagnac,  op.  ctt.,  p.  352. 


XII  EDUCATION  271 

of  the  Central  and  South  American  States  have  also 
borrowed  its  salient  features. 

A  Code  of  Civil  Procedure  was  promulgated  in  France 
in  1806,  one  of  Commerce  in  1807,  of  "  Criminal  Instruc- 
tion ''  in  1808,  and  a  Penal  Code  in  1810.  Except  that 
they  were  more  reactionary  in  spirit  than  the  Civil  Code, 
there  is  little  that  calls  for  notice  here,  the  Penal  Code 
especially  showing  little  advance  in  intelligence  or 
clemency  on  the  older  laws  of  France.  Even  in  1802, 
officials  favoured  severity  after  the  disorders  of  the  pre- 
ceding years.  When  Fox  and  Romilly  paid  a  visit  to 
Talleyrand  at  Paris,  they  were  informed  by  his  secretary 
that: 

"  In  his  opinion  nothing  could  restore  good  morals  and  order  in  the 
country  but  *  la  roue  et  la  r^linon  de  nos  ancdtres.'  He  knew,  he  said, 
that  the  English  did  not  think  so,  but  we  knew  nothing  of  the  people. 
Fox  was  deeply  shocked  at  the  idea  of  restoring  the  wheel  as  a  punish- 
ment in  France."  ^ 

This  horrible  punishment  was  not  actually  restored :  but 
this  extract  from  Romilly's  diary  shows  what  was  the 
state  of  feeling  in  official  circles  at  Paris,  and  how  strong 
was  the  reaction  towards  older  ideas.  The  reaction  was 
unquestionablv  emphasized  by  Bonaparte's  influence,  and 
it  is  noteworthy  that  the  Penal  and  other  Codes,  passed 
during  the  Empire,  were  more  reactionary  than  the  laws 
of  the  Consulate.  Yet,  even  as  First  Consul,  he  exerted 
an  influence  that  began  to  banish  the  customs  and  tradi- 
tions of  the  Revolution,  except  in  the  single  sphere  of 
material  interests ;  and  he  satisfied  the  peasants  love  of 
land  and  money  in  order  that  he  might  the  more  securely 
triumph  over  revolutionary  ideals  and  draw  France  insen- 
sibly Dack  to  the  age  of  Louis  XIV. 

While  the  legislator  must  always  keep  in  reserve  punish- 
ment as  the  ultima  ratio  for  the  lawless,  he  will  turn  by 
preference  to  education  as  a  more  potent  moralizing  agency; 
and  certainly  education  urgently  needed  Bonaparte's  at- 
tention. The  work  of  carrying  into  practice  the  grand  edu- 
cational aims  of  Condorcet  and  his  coadjutors  in  me  French 
Convention  was  enough  to  tax  the  energies  of  a  Hercules. 

1  *•  The  Life  of  Sir  8.  Romilly,"  vol.  i.,  p.  408. 


272  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Those  ardent  reformers  did  little  more  than  clear  the 
ground  for  future  action :  they  abolished  the  old  monastic 
and  clerical  training,  and  declared  for  a  generous  system 
of  national  education  in  primary,  secondary,  and  advanced 
schools.  But  amid  strifes  and  bankruptcy  their  aims  re- 
mained unfulfilled.  In  1799  there  were  only  twenty-four 
elementary  schools  open  in  Paris,  with  a  total  attendance 
of  less  than  1,000  pupils ;  and  in  rural  districts  matters 
were  equally  bad.  Indeed,  Lucien  Bonaparte  asserted 
that  scarcely  any  education  was  to  be  found  in  France. 
Exaggerated  though  this  statement  was,  in  relation  to 
secondary  and  advanced  education,  it  was  proximately 
true  of  the  elementary  schools.  The  revolutionists  had 
merely  traced  the  outlines  of  a  scheme :  it  remained 
for  the  First  Consul  to  fill  in  the  details,  or  to  leave  it 
blank. 

The  result  can  scarcely  be  cited  as  a  proof  of  his  educa- 
tional zeal.  Elementary  schools  were  left  to  the  control 
and  supervision  of  the  communes  and  of  the  »<m9pr4fet9y 
and  naturally  made  little  advance  amidst  an  apathetic 
population  and  under  officials  who  cared  not  to  press  on 
an  expensive  enterprise.  The  law  of  April  80th,  1802, 
however,  aimed  at  improving  the  secondary  education, 
which  the  Convention  had  attempted  to  give  in  its  Seoles 
centrales.  These  were  now  reconstituted  either  as  ^eoles 
seeondaires  or  as  lycSes,  The  former  were  local  or  even 
private  institutions  intended  for  the  most  promising  pupils 
of  the  commune  or  group  of  communes  ;  while  the  It/cSeSy 
far  fewer  in  number,  were  controlled  directly  by  the  Gov- 
ernment. In  both  of  these  schools  great  prominence  was 
given  to  the  exact  and  applied  sciences.  The  aim  of  the 
instruction  was  not  to  awaken  thought  and  develop  the 
faculties,  but  rather  to  fashion  able  breadwinners,  obedient 
citizens,  and  enthusiastic  soldiers.  The  training  was  of 
an  almost  military  type,  the  pupils  being  regularly  drilled, 
while  the  lessons  began  and  ended  with  the  roll  of  drums. 
The  numbers  of  the  lycSes  and  of  their  pupils  rapidly  in- 
creased ;  but  the  progress  of  the  secondary  and  primary 
schools,  which  could  boast  no  such  attractions,  was  very 
slow.  In  1806  only  25,000  children  were  attending  the 
public  primary  schools.     But  two  years  later  elementary 


XII  EDUCATION  273 

and  advanced  instruction  received  a  notable  impetus  from 
the  establishment  of  the  University  of  France. 

There  is  no  institution  which  better  reveals  the  char- 
acter of  the  French  Emperor,  with  its  singular  combina- 
tion of  greatness  and  littleness,  of  wide-sweeping  aims 
with  ofiQcial  pedantry.  The  University,  as  it  existed 
during  the  First  Empire,  offers  a  striking  example  of  that 
mania  for  the  control  of  the  general  will  which  philoso- 
phers had  so  attractively  taught  and  Napoleon  so  profitably 
practised.  It  is  the  first  definite  outcome  of  a  desire  to 
subject  education  and  learning  to  wholesale  re^mental 
methods,  and  to  break  up  the  old-world  bowers  of  culture 
by  State-worked  steam-ploughs.  His  aims  were  thus  set 
forth : 

"I  want  a  teaching  body,  because  such  a  hody  never  dies,  but 
transmits  its  organization  and  spirit.  I  want  a  body  whose  teaching 
is  far  above  the  fads  of  the  moment,  ^oes  straight  on  even  when  the 
government  is  asleep,  and  whose  administration  and  statutes  be- 
come so  national  that  one  can  never  lightly  resolve  to  meddle  with 
them.  .  .  .  There  will  never  be  fixity  m  politics  if  there  is  not  a 
teaching  body  with  fixed  principles.  As  long  as  people  do  not  from 
their  infancy  learn  whether  thev  ought  to  be  republicans  or  monarch- 
ists, Catholics  or  sceptics,  the  State  will  never  form  a  nation  :  it  will 
rest  on  unsafe  and  shifting  foundations,  always  exposed  to  changes 
and  disorders." 

Such  being  Napoleon's  designs,  the  new  University  of 
France  was  admirably  suited  to  his  purpose.  It  was  not 
a  local  university:  it  was  the  sum  total  of  all  the  public 
teaching  bodies  of  the  French  Empire,  arranged  and 
drilled  in  one  vast  instructional  array.  Elementary 
schools,  secondary  schools,  lyeSes^  as  well  as  the  more 
advanced  colleges,  all  were  absorbed  in  and  controlled 
by  this  great  teaching  corporation,  which  was  to  incul- 
cate the  precepts  of  the  Catholic  religion,  fidelity  to  the 
Emperor  and  to  his  Government,  as  guarantees  for  the 
welfare  of  the  people  and  the  unity  of  France.  For 
educational  purposes,  France  was  now  divided  into  sev- 
enteen Academies,  which  formed  the  local  centres  of  the 
new  institution.  Thus,  from  Paris  and  sixteen  provin- 
cial Academies,  instruction  was  strictly  organized  and 
controlled ;  and  within  a  short  time  of  its  institution 
(March,  1808),  instruction  of  all  kinds,  including  that  of 


274  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

the  elementary  schools,  showed  some  advance.  But  to 
all  those  who  look  on  the  unfolding  of  the  mental  and 
moral  faculties  as  the  chief  aim  of  true  edue(Uiony  the 
homely  experiments  of  Pestalozzi  offer  a  far  more  sugges- 
tive and  important  field  for  observation  than  the  barrack- 
like methods  of  the  French  Emperor.  The  Swiss  reformer 
sought  to  train  the  mind  to  observe,  reflect,  and  think ; 
to  assist  the  faculties  in  attaining  their  fullest  and  freest 
expression ;  and  thus  to  add  to  the  richness  and  variety 
of  human  thought.  The  French  imperial  system  sought 
to  prune  away  all  mental  independence,  and  to  train  the 
young  generation  in  neat  and  serviceable  eyxdier  meth- 
ods :  all  aspiring  shoots,  especially  in  the  sphere  of  moral 
and  political  science,  were  sharply  cut  down.  Conse- 
quently French  thought,  which  had  been  the  most 
ardently  speculative  in  Europe,  speedily  became  vapid 
and  mechanical. 

The  same  remark  is  proximately  true  of  the  literary 
life  of  the  First  Empire.  It  soon  began  to  feel  the  rigor- 
ous methods  of  the  Emperor.  Poetry  and  all  other  modes 
of  expression  of  lofty  thought  and  rapt  feeling  require 
not  only  a  free  outlet  but  natural  and  unrestrained  sur- 
roundings. The  true  poet  is  at  home  in  the  forest  or  on 
the  mountain  rather  than  in  prim  parterres.  The  philos- 
opher sees  most  clearly  and  reasons  most  suggestively, 
when  his  faculties  are  not  cramped  by  the  need  of  observ- 
ing political  rules  and  police  regulations.  And  the  his- 
torian, when  he  is  tied  down  to  a  mere  investigation  and 
recital  of  facts,  without  reference  to  their  meaning,  is  but 
a  sorry  fowl  flapping  helplessly  with  unequal  wings. 

Yet  such  were  the  conditions  under  which  the  literature 
of  France  struggled  and  pined.  Her  poets,  a  band  sadly 
thinned  already  by  the  guillotine,  sang  in  forced  and  hol- 
low strains  until  the  return  of  royalism  begat  an  imperial- 
ist fervour  in  the  soul-stirring  lyrics  of  Beranger:  her 
philosophy  was  dumb;  and  Napoleonic  history  limped 
along  on  official  crutches,  until  Thiers,  a  generation  later, 
essayed  his  monumental  work.  In  the  realm  of  exact  and 
applied  science,  as  might  be  expected,  splendid  discover- 
ies adorned  the  Emperor's  reign ;  but  if  we  are  to  find 
any  vitality  in  the  literature  of  that  period,  we  must  go 


XII  THE  NEW  INSTITUTIONS  OF  FRANCE  276 

to  the  ranks,  not  of  the  panegyrists,  but  of  the  opposi- 
tion. There,  in  the  pages  of  Madame  de  Stael  and  Cha- 
teaubriand, we  feel  the  throb  of  life.  Genius  will  out, 
of  its  own  native  force:  but  it  cannot  be  pressed  out, 
even  at  a  Napoleon's  bidding.  In  vain  did  he  endeavour 
to  stimulate  literature  hf  the  reorganization  of  the  Insti- 
tute, and  by  granting  decennial  prizes  for  the  chief  works 
and  discoveries  of  the  decade.  While  science  prospered, 
literature  languished :  and  one  of  his  own  remarks,  as  to 
the  desirability  of  a  public  and  semi-official  criticism  of 
some  great  literary  work,  seems  to  suggest  a  reason  for 
this  intellectual  malaise : 

<<The  public  will  take  interest  in  this  criticism;  perhaps  it  will 
even  take  sides :  it  matters  not,  as  its  attention  will  be  fixed  on  these 
interesting  debates:  it  will  talk  about  grammar  and  poetry:  taste 
will  be  improved,  and  our  aim  will  be  fulfilled :  out  of  that  will  come 
poets  and  grammarians,** 

And  SO  it  came  to  pass  that,  while  he  was  rescuing  a 
nation  from  chaos  and  his  eagles  winged  their  flight  to 
Naples,  Lisbon,  and  Moscow,  he  found  no  original  thinker 
worthily  to  hymn  his  praises ;  and  the  chief  literary  tri- 
umphs of  his  reira  came  from  Chateaubriand,  whom  he 
impoverished,  and  Madame  de  Stael,  whom  he  drove  into 
exile. 

Such  are  the  chief  laws  and  customs  which  are  imperish- 
ably  associated  with  the  name  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  In 
some  respects  they  may  be  described  as  making  for  prog- 
ress. Their  establishment  gave  to  the  Revolution  that 
solidity  which  it  had  previously  lacked.  Among  so  "  in- 
flammable" a  people  as  the  French  —  the  epithet  is  Ste. 
Beuve's  —  it  was  quite  possible  that  some  of  the  chief  civil 
conquests  of  the  last  decade  might  have  been  lost,  had  not 
the  First  Consul,  to  use  his  own  expressive  phrase,  "  thrown 
in  some  blocks  of  granite."  We  may  intensify  his  meta- 
phor and  assert  that  out  of  the  shifting  shingle  of  French 
life  he  constructed  a  concrete  breakwater,  in  which  his 
own  will  acted  as  the  binding  cement,  defying  the  storms 
of  revolutionary  or  royalist  passion  which  had  swept  the 
incoherent  atoms  to  and  fro,  and  had  carried  desolation 


276  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  CHiLP. 

far  inland.  Thenceforth  France  was  able  to  work  oat  her 
future  under  the  shelter  of  institutions  which  unquestion- 
ably possess  one  supreme  merit,  that  of  durability.  But 
while  the  chief  civic  and  material  gains  of  the  Revolution 
were  thus  perpetuated,  the  very  spirit  and  life  of  that 
great  movement  were  benumbed  by  the  personality  and 
action  of  Napoleon.  The  burning  enthusiasm  for  the 
Rights  of  Man  was  quenched,  the  passion  for  civic  equality 
survived  only  as  the  gibbering  ghost  of  what  it  had  been  in 
1790,  and  the  consolidation  of  revolutionary  France  was 
effected  by  a  process  nearly  akin  to  petrifaction. 

And  yet  this  time  of  political  and  intellectual  reaction 
in  France  was  marked  by  the  rise  of  the  greatest  of  her 
modern  institutions.  There  is  the  chief  paradox  of  that 
age.  While  barren  of  literary  activity  and  of  truly  civic 
developments,  yet  it  was  unequalled  in  the  growth  of  in- 
stitutions. This  is  generally  the  characteristic  of  epochs 
when  the  human  faculties,  long  congealed  by  untoward 
restraints,  suddenly  burst  their  barriers  and  run  riot  in 
a  spring-tide  of  hope.  The  time  of  disillusionment  or 
despair  which  usually  supervenes  may,  as  a  rule,  be  com- 
pared with  the  numbing  torpor  of  winter,  necessary  doubt- 
less in  our  human  economy,  but  lacking  the  charm  and 
vitality  of  the  expansive  phase.  Often,  indeed,  it  is  dis- 
graced by  the  characteristics  of  a  slavish  populace,  a  mean 
selfishness,  a  mad  frivolity,  and  fawning  adulation  on  the 
ruler  who  dispenses  j^an^m  et  circensea.  Such  has  been  the 
course  of  many  a  political  reaction,  from  the  time  of  degen- 
erate Athens  and  imperial  Rome  down  to  the  decay  of 
Medicean  Florence  and  the  orgies  of  the  restored  Stuarts. 

The  f ruitf  ulness  of  the  time  of  monarchical  reaction  in 
France  may  be  chiefly  attributed  to  two  causes,  the  one 
general,  the  other  personal ;  the  one  connected  with  the 
French  Revolution,  the  other  with  the  exceptional  gifts  of 
Bonaparte.  In  their  efforts  to  create  durable  institutions 
the  revolutionists  had  failed  :  they  had  attempted  too 
much :  they  had  overthrown  the  old  order,  had  undertaken 
crusades  against  monarchical  Europe,  and  striven  to  manu- 
facture constitutions  and  remodel  a  deeply  agitated  society. 
They  did  scarcely  more  than  trace  the  outlines  of  the 
future  social  structure.     The  edifice,  which  should  have 


XII  THE  NEW  INSTITUTIONS  OF  FRANCE  277 

been  reaxed  by  the  Directory,  was  scarcely  advanced  at  all, 
owing  to  the  singular  dulness  of  the  new  rulers  of  France. 
But  the  genius  was  at  hand.  He  restored  order,  he  rallied 
various  classes  to  his  side,  he  methodized  local  government, 
he  restored  finance  and  credit,  he  restored  religious  peace 
and  yet  secured  the  peasants  in  their  tenure  of  the  confis- 
cated lands,  he  rewarded  merit  with  social  honours,  and 
finally  he  solidified  his  polity  by  a  comprehensive  code  of 
laws  which  made  him  the  keystone  of  the  now  rounded  arch 
of  French  life. 

His  methods  in  this  immense  work  deserve  attention  : 
they  were  very  different  from  those  of  the  revolutionary 
parties  after  the  best  days  of  1789  were  past.  The  fol- 
lowers of  Rousseau  worked  on  rigorous  a  priori  methods. 
If  institutions  and  sentiments  did  not  square  with  the  prin- 
ciples of  their  master,  they  were  swept  away  or  were  forced 
into  conformity  with  the  new  evangel.  A  correct  know- 
ledge of  the  "  Contrat  Social "  and  keen  critical  powers 
were  the  prime  requisites  of  Jacobinical  statesmanship. 
Knowledge  of  the  history  of  France,  the  faculty  of  gauging 
the  real  strength  of  popular  feelings,  tact  in  conciliating 
important  interests,  all  were  alike  despised.  Institutions 
and  class  interests  were  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  that 
imposing  abstraction,  the  general  will.  For  this  alone 
could  philosophers  legislate  and  factions  conspire. 

From  these  lofty  aims  and  exasperating  methods  Bona- 
parte was  speedily  weaned.  If  victorious  analysis  led  to 
this  ;  if  it  could  only  pull  down,  not  reconstruct ;  if,  while 
legislating  for  the  general  will  Jacobins  harassed  one  class 
after  another  and  produced  civil  war,  then  away  with  their 
pedantries  in  favour  of  the  practical  statecraft  which 
attempted  one  task  at  a  time  and  aimed  at  winning  back 
in  turn  the  alienated  classes.  Then,  and  then  alone,  after 
civic  peace  had  been  re-established,  would  he  attempt  the 
reconstruction  of  the  civil  order  in  the  same  tentative 
manner,  taking  up  only  this  or  that  frayed  end  at  once, 
trusting  to  time,  skill,  and  patience  to  transform  the  tangle 
into  a  symmetrical  pattern.  And  thus,  where  Feuillants, 
Girondins,  and  Jacobins  had  produced  chaos,  the  practical 
man  and  his  able  helpers  succeeded  in  weaving  ineffaceable 
outlines.     As  to  the  time  when  the  change  took  place  in 


278  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  cup.  zn 

Bonaparte's  brain  from  Jacobinism  to  aims  and  methods 
that  may  be  called  conservative,  we  are  strangely  ignorant. 
But  the  results  of  this  mental  change  will  stand  forth  clear 
and  solid  for  many  a  generation  in  the  customs,  laws,  and 
institutions  of  his  adopted  country.  If  the  Revolution, 
intellectually  considered,  began  and  ended  with  analysis. 
Napoleon's  faculties  supplied  the  needed  synthesis.  To- 
gemer  they  made  modern  France. 


CHAPTER  illl 

THE  CONSULATE  FOB  LIFE 

With  the  view  of  presenting  in  clear  outlines  the  chief 
institutions  of  Napoleonic  France,  they  have  been  described 
in  the  preceding  chapter,  detached  from  their  political 
setting.  We  now  return  to  consider  the  events  which 
favoured  the  consolidation  of  Bonaparte's  power. 

No  politician  inured  to  the  tricks  of  statecraft  could 
more  firmly  have  handled  public  affairs  than  the  man  who 
practically  began  his  political  apprenticeship  at  Brumaire. 
Without  apparent  effort  he  rose  to  the  height  whence  the 
five  Directors  had  so  ignominiously  fallen ;  and  instinc- 
tively he  chose  at  once  the  policy  which  alone  could  have 
insured  rest  for  France,  that  of  balancing  interests  and 
parties.  His  own  political  views  being  as  yet  imknown, 
dark  with  the  excessive  brightness  of  his  encircling  glory, 
he  could  pose  as  the  conciliator  of  contending  factions. 
The  Jacobins  were  content  when  they  saw  the  regicide 
Cambaceres  become  Second  Consul ;  and  friends  of  con- 
stitutional monarchy  remembered  that  the  Third  Consul, 
Lebrun,  had  leanings  towards  the  Feuillants  of  1791. 
Fouche  at  the  inquisitorial  Ministry  of  Police,  and  Merlin, 
Berlier,  Real,  and  Boulay  de  la  Meurthe  in  the  Council  of 
State  seemed  a  barrier  to  all  monarchical  schemes ;  and 
the  Jacobins  therefore  remained  quiet,  even  while  Catholic 
worship  was  again  publicly  celebrated,  while  Vendean 
rebels  were  pardoned,  and  plotting  SmigrSs  were  entering 
the  public  service. 

Manv,  indeed,  of  the  prominent  terrorists  had  settled 
profitably  on  the  offices  which  Bonaparte  had  multiplied 
throughout  France,  and  were  therefore  dumb :  but  some 
of  the  less  favoured  ones,  angered  by  the  stealthy  advance 
of  autocracy,  wove  a  plot  for  the  overthrow  of  the  First 
Consul.     Chief  among  them  were  a  braggart  named  De- 

279 


280  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  gsap. 

merville,  a  painter,  Topino  Lebnm,  a  sculptor,  Ceracchi, 
and  Arena,  brother  of  tne  Corsican  deputy  who  had  shaken 
Bonaparte  by  the  collar  at  the  crisis  of  Brumaire.  These 
men  hit  upon  the  notion  that,  with  the  aid  of  one  man  of 
action,  they  could  make  away  with  the  new  despot.  They 
opened  their  hearts  to  a  penniless  officer  named  Harel,  who 
had  been  dismissed  from  the  army ;  and  he  straightway 
took  the  news  to  Bonaparte's  private  secretary,  Boarrienne. 
The  First  Consul,  on  hearing  of  the  matter,  at  once  charged 
Bourrienne  to  supply  Harel  with  money  to  buy  firearms, 
but  not  to  tell  the  secret  to  Fouche,  of  whose  double  deal- 
ings with  the  Jacobins  he  was  already  aware.  It  became 
needful,  however,  to  inform  him  of  the  plot,  which  was 
now  carefully  nursed  by  the  authorities.     The  arrests  were 

Elanned  to  take  place  at  the  opera  on  October  10th.  About 
alf  an  hour  after  the  play  had  beg^n,  Bonaparte  bade  his 
secretary  go  into  the  lobby  to  hear  the  news.  Bourrienne 
at  once  heard  the  noise  caused  by  a  number  of  arrests  :  he 
came  back,  reported  the  matter  to  his  master,  who  forth- 
with returned  to  the  Tuileries.     The  plot  was  over.^ 

A  more  serious  attempt  was  to  follow.  On  the  8rd  day 
of  Nivose  (December  24th,  1800),  as  the  First  Consul  was 
driving  to  the  opera  to  hear  Haydn's  oratorio,  "  The  Crea- 
tion," nis  carriage  was  shaken  by  a  terrific  explosion.  A 
bomb  had  burst  between  his  carriage  and  that  of  Joseph- 
ine, which  was  following.  Neither  was  injured,  though 
many  spectators  were  killed  or  wounded.  "  Josephine," 
he  calmly  said,  as  she  entered  the  box,  ^Hhose  rascals 
wanted  to  blow  me  up  :  send  for  a  copy  of  the  music." 
But  under  this  cool  demeanour  he  nursed  a  determination 
of  vengeance  against  his  political  foes,  the  Jacobins.     On 

1  Madelin  in  his  **Fouch6,*'  ch.  xi.,  shows  bow  Bonaparte's  private 
police  managed  the  affair.  Harel  was  afterwards  promoted  to  the  gov- 
ernorship of  the  Castle  of  Vincennes :  the  four  talkers,  whom  he  and  the 
police  hfud.  bired  on,  were  executed  after  the  affair  of  Nivdse.  That  dex- 
trous litcraigr  flatterer,  the  poet  Fontanes,  celebrated  the  "discovery** 
of  the  Ar^na  plot  by  publishing  anonymously  a  pamphlet  ^"  A  Parallel 
between  CsBsarf  Cromwell,  Monk,  and  Bonaparte  '*)  in  whicn  he  decided 
that  no  one  bat  Csesar  deserved  the  honour  of  a  comparison  with  Bona- 
parte, and  that  cefMn  destinies  were  summoning  him  to  a  yet  higher  title. 
The  pamphlet  appearelS^nder  the  patronage  of  Lucien  Bonaparte,  and  so 
annoyed  his  brother  thltt  he  soon  despatched  him  on  a  diplomatic  mission 
to  Madrid  as  a  pn^iishinent  for  his  ill-timed  suggestions. 


xm  THE  CONSULATE  FOR  LIFE  281 

the  next  day  he  appeared  at  a  session  of  the  Council  of 
State  along  with  the  Ministers  of  Police  and  of  the  In- 
terior, Fouche  and  Chaptal.  The  Arena  plot  and  other 
recent  events  seemed  to  point  to  wild  Jacobins  and  anar- 
chists as  the  authors  of  this  outrage :  but  Fouche  ventured 
to  impute  it  to  the  royalists  and  to  England. 

"  There  are  in  it,"  Bonaparte  at  once  remarked,  **  neither  nobles, 
nor  Chouans,  nor  priests.  They  are  men  of  September  {Septembri- 
seurs),  wretches  stamed  with  blood,  ever  conspiring  in  solid  phalanx 
against  every  successive  government.  We  must  find  a  means  of 
prompt  redress." 

The  Councillors  at  once  adopted  this  opinion,  Roederer 
hotly  declaring  his  open  hostility  to  Fouche  for  his  re- 
puted complicity  with  the  terrorists ;  and,  if  we  may 
credit  the  an  dit  of  Pasquier,  Talleyrand  urged  the  exe- 
cution of  Fouche  within  twenty-four  hours.  Bonaparte, 
however,  preferred  to  keep  the  two  cleverest  and  most 
questionable  schemers  of  the  age,  so  as  mutually  to  check 
each  other's  movements.  A  day  later,  when  the  Council 
was  about  to  institute  special  proceedings,  Bonaparte 
again  intervened  with  the  remark  that  the  action  oi  the 
tribunal  would  be  too  slow,  too  restricted :  a  signal  re- 
venge was  needed  for  so  foul  a  crime,  rapid  as  lightning : 

''  Blood  mnst  be  shed :  as  many  guilty  must  be  shot  as  the  inno- 
cent who  had  perished — some  fifteen  or  twenty  —  and  two  hundred 
banished,  so  that  the  Republic  might  profit  by  that  event  to  purge 
itself." 

This  was  the  policy  now  openlv  followed.  In  vain  did 
some  members  of  the  usually  obsequious  Council  object 
to  this  summary  procedure.  Roederer,  Boulay,  even  the 
Second  Consul  himself,  now  perceived  how  trifling  was 
their  influence  when  they  attempted  to  modify  Bona- 
parte's plans,  and  two  sections  of  the  Council  speedily 
decided  that  there  should  be  a  military  commission  to 
judge  suspects  and  ^^ deport"  dangerous  persons,  and 
that  the  Government  should  announce  this  to  the  Senate, 
Corps  Legislatif,  and  Tribunate.  Public  opinion,  mean- 
while, was  carefully  trained  by  the  official  "Moniteur," 
which  described  in  detail  various  so-called  anarchist 
attempts ;  but  an  increasing  number  in  official  circles 


282  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohuf. 

veered  round  to  Fouche's  belief  that  the  outrage  was  the 
work  of  the  royalists  abetted  by  England.  The  First 
Consul  himself,  six  days  after  the  event,  inclined  to  this 
version.  Nevertheless,  at  a  full  meeting  of  the  Council 
of  State,  on  the  first  day  of  the  year  1801,  he  brought 
up  a  list  of  '^  130  villains  who  were  troubling  the  pubUc 
peace,"  with  a  view  to  inflicting  summary  punishment  on 
them.  Thibaudeau,  Boulay,  and  Roederer  haltingly  ex- 
pressed their  fears  that  all  the  130  might  not  be  guilty 
of  the  recent  outrage,  and  that  the  Council  hstd  no 
powers  to  decide  on  the  proscription  of  individuals. 
Bonaparte  at  once  assured  them  that  he  was  not  consult- 
ing them  about  the  fate  of  individuals,  but  merely  to 
know  whether  they  thought  an  exceptional  measure 
necessary.     The  Government  had  only 

'<  Strong  presumptions,  not  proofs,  that  the  terrorists  were  the 
authors  of  this  attempt.  Chouannerie  and  emigration  are  surface  ills, 
terrorism  is  an  internal  disease.  The  measure  ought  to  be  taken  in- 
dependently of  the  event.  It  is  only  the  occasion  of  it.  We  banish 
them  rthe  terrorists)  for  the  massacres  of  September  2nd,  May  Slst, 
the  Baoeuf  plot,  and  every  subsequent  attempt."  ^ 

The  Council  thereupon  unanimously  affirmed  the  need  of 
an  exceptional  measure,  and  adopted  a  suggestion  of 
Talleyrand  (probably  emanating  from  Bonaparte)  that 
the  Senate  should  be  invited  to  declare  by  a  special  de- 
cision, called  a  aenatus  consultum^  whether  such  an  act 
were  "preservative  of  the  constitution."  This  device, 
which  avoided  the  necessity  of  passing  a  law  through  two 
less  subservient  bodies,  the  Tribunate  and  Corps  Legis- 
latif,  was  forthwith  approved  by  the  guardians  of  the  con- 
stitution. It  had  far-reaching  results.  The  complaisant 
Senate  was  brought  down  from  its  constitutional  watch- 
tower  to  become  the  tool  of  the  Consuls ;  and  an  easy 
way  for  further  innovations  was  thus  dextrously  opened 
up  through  the  very  portals  which  were  designed  to  bar 
them  out. 

The  immediate  results  of  the  device  were  startling.  By 
an  act  of  January  4th,  1801,  as  many  as  130  prominent 
Jacobins  were  "  placed  under  special  surveillance  outside 

^  Thibaudeau,  op,  cif.,  vol.  ii.,  p.  66.    Miot  de  Melito,  oh.  zlt 


XIII  THE  CONSULATE  FOR  LIFE  283 

the  European  territory  of  the  Republic"  —  a  specious 
phrase  for  denoting  a  living  death  amidst  the  wastes  of 
French  Guiana  or  the  Seychelles.  Some  of  the  threatened 
persons  escaped,  perhaps  owing  to  the  connivance  of 
Fouche  ;  some  were  sent  to  the  Isle  of  Oleron  ;  but  the 
others  were  forthwith  despatched  to  the  miseries  of  cap- 
tivity in  the  tropics.  Among  these  were  personages  so 
diverse  as  Rossignol,  once  the  scourge  of  France  with  his 
force  of  Parisian  cut-throats,  and  Dustrem,  whose  crime 
was  his  vehement  upbraiding  of  Bonaparte  at  St.  Cloud. 
After  this  measure  had  taken  effect,  it  was  discovered  by 
judicial  inquiry  that  the  Jacobins  had  no  connection  with 
the  outrage,  which  was  the  work  of  royalists  named 
Saint-Rejant  and  Carbon.  These  were  captured,  and  on 
January  31st,  1801,  were  executed ;  but  their  fate  had  no 
influence  whatever  on  the  sentence  of  the  transported 
Jacobins.  Of  those  who  were  sent  to  Guiana  and  the 
Seychelles,  scarce  twenty  saw  France  again.^ 

Bonaparte's  conduct  with  respect  to  plots  deserves  close 
attention.  Never  since  the  age  of  the  Borgias  have  con- 
spiracies been  so  skilfully  exploited,  so  cunningly  counter- 
mined. Moreover,  his  conduct  with  respect  to  the  Arena 
and  Nivose  affairs  had  a  wider  significance ;  for  he  now 
quietly  but  firmlv  exchanged  the  policy  of  balancing 
parties  for  one  which  crushed  the  extreme  republicans, 
and  enhanced  the  importance  of  all  who  were  likely  to 
approve  or  condone  the  establishment  of  personal  rule. 

It  is  now  time  to  consider  the  effect  which  Bonaparte's 
foreign  policy  had  on  his  position  in  France.  Reserving 
for  a  later  chapter  an  examination  of  the  Treaty  of  Amiens, 
we  may  here  notice  the  close  connection  between  Bonaparte's 
diplomatic  successes  and  the  perpetuation  of  his  Consulate. 


1  It  seems  clear,  from  the  evidence  so  frankly  given  by  Cadoudal  in  his 
trial  in  1804,  as  well  as  from  his  expressions  when  he  heard  of  the  affair  of 
Nivdse,  that  the  hero  of  the  Chouans  had  no  part  in  the  bomb  affair.  He 
had  returned  to  France,  had  empowered  St.  R^jant  to  buy  arms  and 
horses,  ^*  dont  je  me  servirai  plus  tard  ** ;  and  it  seems  certain  that  he  in- 
tended to  form  a  band  of  desperate  men  who  were  to  waylay,  kidnap,  or 
kill  the  First  Consul  in  open  fight.  This  plan  was  deferred  by  the  bomb 
explosion  for  three  years.    As  soon  as  he  heard  of  this  event,  he  exclaimed : 

^^I'U  bet  that  it  was  that St.  R^jant.     He  has  upset  all  my  plans." 

(See  **  Georges  Cadoudal,**  par  G.  de  Cadoudal.) 


284  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

All  thouglitful  students  of  history  must  have  observed 
the  warping^  influence  which  war  and  diplomacy  have 
exerted  on  democratic  institutions.  The  age  of  Alcibia- 
des,  the  doom  of  the  Roman  Republic^  and  many  other 
examples  might  be  cited  to  show  that  free  institutions  can 
with  difficulty  survive  the  strain  of  a  vast  military  organ- 
ization or  the  insidious  results  of  an  exacting  diplomacy. 
But  never  has  the  gulf  between  democracy  and  personal 
rule  been  so  quickly  spanned  as  by  the  commanding  genius 
of  Bonaparte. 

The  events  which  disgusted  both  England  and  France 
with  war  have  been  described  above.  Each  antagonist 
had  parried  the  attacks  of  the  other.  The  blow  which 
Bonaparte  had  aimed  at  Britain's  commerce  by  his  eastern 
expedition  had  been  foiled ;  and  a  considerable  French 
force  was  shut  up  in  Egypt.  His  plan  of  relieving  his 
starving  garrison  in  Malta  by  concluding  a  maritime  truce 
had  been  seen  through  by  us ;  and  after  a  blockade  of 
two  years,  Valetta  fell  (September,  1800).  But  while 
Great  Britain  regained  more  than  all  her  old  power  in  the 
Mediterranean,  she  failed  to  make  any  impression  on  the 
land-power  of  France.  The  First  Consul  in  the  year  1801 
compelled  Naples  and  Portugal  to  give  up  the  English 
alliance  and  to  exclude  our  vessels  and  goods.  In  the 
north  the  results  of  the  war  had  been  in  favour  of  the 
islanders.  The  Union  Jack  again  waved  triumphant  on 
the  Baltic,  and  all  attempts  of  the  French  to  rouse  and 
support  an  Irish  revolt  had  signally  failed.  Yet  the 
French  preparations  for  an  invasion  of  England  strained 
the  resources  of  our  exchequer  and  the  patience  of  our 
people.  The  weary  struggle  was  evidently  about  to  close 
in  a  stalemate. 

For  political  and  financial  reasons  the  two  Powers 
needed  repose.  Bonaparte's  authority  was  not  as  yet  so 
firmly  founded  that  he  could  afford  to  neglect  the  silent 
longings  of  France  for  peace  ;  his  institutions  had  not  as 
yet  taken  root ;  and  he  needed  money  for  public  works 
and  colonial  enterprises.  That  he  looked  on  peace  as  far 
more  desirable  for  France  than  for  England  at  the  present 
time  is  clear  from  a  confidential  talk  which  he  had  with 
Roederer  at  the  close  of  1800.     This  bright  thinker,  to 


XIII  THE  CONSULATE  FOB  LIFE  286 

whom  he  often  unbosomed  himself,  took  exception  to  his 
remark  that  England  could  not  wish  for  peace ;  where- 
upon the  First  Consul  uttered  these  memorable  words  : 

^  My  dear  fellow,  England  oaght  not  to  wish  for  peace,  because  we 
are  masters  of  the  world.  Spain  is  ours.  We  have  a  foothold  in 
Italy.  In  Eg^t  we  have  the  reversion  to  their  tenure.  Switzerland, 
Holland,  Bemum — that  is  a  matter  irrevocably  settled,  on  which  we 
have  declared  to  Prussia,  Russia,  and  the  Emperor  that  we  aloney  if  it 
were  necessary,  would  make  war  on  all,  namely,  that  there  shall  be  no 
Stadholder  in  Holland,  and  that  we  will  keep  Belgium  and  the  left 
bank  of  the  Rhine.  A  stadholder  in  Holland  would  be  as  bad  as  a 
Bourbon  in  the  St.  Autoine  suburb."  ^ 

The  passage  is  remarkable,  not  only  for  its  frank  state- 
ment of  the  terms  on  which  England  and  the  Continent 
might  have  peace,  but  also  because  it  discloses  the  rank 
undergrowth  of  pride  and  ambition  that  is  beginning  to 
overtop  his  reasoning  faculties.  Even  before  he  has 
heard  the  news  of  Moreau's  great  victory  of  Hohenlinden, 
he  equates  the  military  strength  of  France  with  that  of 
the  rest  of  Europe  :  nay,  he  claims  without  a  shadow  of 
doubt  the  mastery  of  the  world :  he  will  wage,  if  neces- 
sarv,  a  double  war,  against  England  for  a  colonial  empire, 
ana  against  Europe  for  domination  in  Holland  and  the 
Rhineland.  It  is  naught  to  him  that  that  double  effort 
has  exhausted  France  in  the  reigns  of  Louis  XIV.  and 
Louis  XV.  Holland,  Switzerland,  Italy,  shall  be  French 
provinces,  Egypt  and  the  Indies  shall  be  her  satrapies, 
and  la  grande  nation  may  then  rest  on  her  glories. 

Had  these  aims  been  known  at  Westminster,  Ministers 
would  have  counted  peace  far  more  harmful  than  war. 
But,  while  ambition  reigned  at  Paris,  dull  common  sense 
dictated  the  policy  of  Britain.  In  truth,  our  people 
needed  rest :  we  were  in  the  first  stages  of  an  industrial 
revolution  :  our  cotton  and  woollen  industries  were  pass- 
ing from  the  cottage  to  the  factory ;  and  a  large  part  of 
our  folk  were  beginning  to  cluster  in  grimy,  ill-organized 
townships.  Population  and  wealth  advanced  by  leaps 
and  bounds  ;  but  with  them  came  the  nineteenth-century 
problems  of  widening  class  distinctions  and  uncertainty  of 

^  Roederer,  **  CEuvres, ''  vol.  ill. ,  p.  852.  For  these  negotiations  see  Bow- 
man's *^  Preliminary  Stages  of  the  Peace  of  Amiens  **  (Toronto,  1899). 


286  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

employment.  The  food-supply  was  often  inadequate,  and 
in  1801  the  price  of  wheat  in  the  London  market  ranged 
from  j£6  to  j£8  the  quarter;  the  quartern  loaf  selling  at 
times  for  as  much  as  Is,  lOid,^ 

The  state  of  the  sister  island  was  even  worse.  The  dis- 
content of  Ireland  had  been  crushed  by  the  severe  repres- 
sion which  followed  the  rising  of  1798 ;  and  the  bonds 
connecting  the  two  countries  were  forcibly  tightened  by 
the  Act  of  Union  of  1800.  But  rest  and  reform  were 
urgently  needed  if  this  political  welding  was  to  acquire 
solid  strength,  and  rest  and  reform  were  alike  denied. 
The  position  of  the  Ministry  at  Westminster  was  also  pre- 
carious. The  opposition  oi  George  III.  to  the  proposals 
for  Catholic  Emancipation,  to  which  Pitt  believed  himself 
in  honour  bound,  led  to  the  resignation  in  February,  1801, 
of  that  able  Minister.  In  the  following  month  Adding- 
ton,  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons,  with  the  com- 
placence born  of  bland  obtuseness,  undertook  to  fill  his 
place.  At  first,  the  Ministry  was  treated  with  the  toler- 
ance due  to  the  new  Premier's  urbanity,  but  it  gradually 
faded  away  into  contempt  for  his  pitiful  weakness  in  face 
of  the  dangers  that  threatened  the  realm. 

Certain  unofficial  efforts  in  the  cause  of  peace  had  been 
made  during  the  year  1800,  by  a  Frenchman,  M.  Otto, 
who  had  been  charged  to  proceed  to  London  to  treat  with 
the  British  Government  lor  the  exchange  of  prisoners. 
For  various  reasons  his  tentative  proposals  as  to  an  accom- 
modation between  the  belligerents  had  had  no  issue  :  but 
he  continued  to  reside  in  London,  and  quietly  sought  to 
bring  about  a  good  understanding.  The  accession  of  the 
Addington  Ministry  favoured  the  opening  of  negotiations, 
the  new  Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs,  Lord  Hawkesbury, 
announcing  His  Majesty's  desire  for  peace.  Indeed,  the 
one  hope  of  the  new  Ministry,  and  of  the  king  who  sup- 
ported it  as  the  only  alternative  to  Catholic  Emancipation, 
was  bound  up  with  the  cause  of  peace.  In  the  next  chap- 
ter it  will  appear  how  disastrous  were  the  results  of  that 
strange  political  situation,  when  a  morbidly  conscientious 
king  clung  to  the  weak  Addington,  and  jeopardized  the 

1  Porter,  **  Progress  of  the  Nation,"  ch.  xiy. 


XIII  THE   CONSULATE  FOR  LIFE  287 

interests  of  Britain,  rather  than  accept  a  strong  Minister 
and  a  measure  of  religious  equality. 

Napoleon  received  Hawkesbury's  first  overtures,  those 
of  March  21st,  1801,  with  thinly  veiled  scorn  ;  but  the 
news  of  Nelson's  victory  at  Copenhagen  aud  of  the  assas- 
sination of  the  Czar  Paul,  the  latter  of  which  wrung  from 
him  a  cry  of  rage,  ended  his  hopes  of  crushing  us  ;  and 
negotiations  were  now  formally  begun.  On  the  14th  of 
April,  Great  Britain  demanded  that  the  French  should 
evacuate  Egypt,  while  she  herself  would  give  up  Minorca, 
but  retain  the  following  conquests  :  Malta,  Tobago,  Mar- 
tinique, Trinidad,  Essequibo,  Demerara,  Berbice,  Ceylon, 
and  (a  little  later)  Curagoa  ;  while,  if  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  were  restored  to  the  Dutch,  it  was  to  be  a  free  port : 
an  indemnity  was  also  to  be  found  for  the  Prince  of  Orange 
for  the  loss  of  his  Netherlands.  These  claims  were  de- 
clared by  Bonaparte  to  be  inadmissible.  He  on  his  side 
urged  the  far  more  impracticable  demand  of  the  statuB  quo 
ante  helium  in  the  East  and  West  Indies  and  in  the  Medi- 
terranean ;  which  would  imply  the  surrender,  not  only  of 
our  many  naval  conquests,  but  also  of  our  gains  in  Hindo- 
stan  at  the  expense  of  the  late  Tippoo  Sahib's  dominions. 
In  the  ensuing  five  months  the  British  Government 
gained  some  noteworthy  successes  in  diplomacy  and  war. 
It  settled  the  disputes  arising  out  of  the  Armed  Neutrality 
League  ;  there  was  every  prospect  of  our  troops  defeating 
those  of  France  in  Egypt ;  and  our  navy  captured  St. 
Eustace  and  Saba  in  the  West  Indies. 

As  a  set-off  to  our  efforts  by  sea,  Bonaparte  instigated 
a  war  between  Spain  and  Portugal,  in  order  that  the 
latter  Power  might  be  held  as  a  "  guarantee  for  the  gen- 
eral peace."  Spain,  however,  merely  waged  a  "war  of 
oranges,"  and  came  to  terms  with  her  neighbour  in  the 
Treaty  of  Badajoz,  June  6th,  1801,  whereby  she  gained 
the  small  frontier  district  of  Olivenza.  This  fell  far 
short  of  the  First  Consul's  intentions.  Indeed,  such  was 
his  annoyance  at  the  conduct  of  the  Court  of  Madrid  and 
the  complaisance  of  his  brother  Lucien  Bonaparte,  who 
was  ambassador  there,  that  he  determined  to  make  Spain 
bear  a  heavy  share  of  the  English  demands.  On  June 
22nd,  1801,  he  wrote  to  his  brother  at  Madrid : 


288  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

''I  have  already  caused  the  English  to  be  informed  that  I  will 
never  depart,  as  regards  Portugal,  from*  the  ultimatum  addressed  to 
M.  d'Araujo,  and  that  the  status  quo  ante  helium  for  Portugal  must 
amount^  for  Spain,  to  the  restitution  of  Trinidad  ;  for  France,  to  the 
restitution  of  Martinique  and  Tobago;  and  for  Batavia  [Holland],  to 
that  of  Cura^oa  and  some  other  small  American  isles."  ^ 

In  other  words,  if  Portugal  at  the  close  of  this  whipped- 
up  war  retained  her  present  possessions,  then  England 
must  renounce  her  claims  to  Trinidad,  Martinique,  To- 
bago, Cura^oa,  etc.  :  and  he  summed  up  his  contention 
in  the  statement  that  ^^  in  signing  this  treaty  Charles  IV. 
has  consented  to  the  loss  of  Trinidad."  Further  pressure 
on  Portugal  compelled  her  to  cede  part  of  Northern  Brazil 
to  France  and  to  pay  her  20,000,000  francs. 

A  still  more  striking  light  is  thrown  on  Bonaparte's 
diplomatic  methods  by  the  following  question,  addressed 
to  Lord  Hawkesbury  on  June  15th  : 

*'  If,  supposing  that  the  French  Government  should  accede  to  the 
arrangements  proposed  for  the  East  Indies  by  England,  and  should 
adopt  the  status  quo  ante  helium  for  Portugal,  the  King  of  England 
would  consent  to  the  re-establishment  of  the  status  quo  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean and  in  America." 

The  British  Minister  in  his  reply  pf  June  25th  explained 
what  the  phrase  9tatv^  quo  ante  helium  in  regard  to  the 
Mediterranean  would  really  imply.  It  would  necessitate, 
not  merely  the  evacuation  of  Egypt  by  the  French,  but 
also  that  of  the  Kingdom  of  Sardinia  (including  Nice), 
the  Duchy  of  Tuscany,  and  the  independence  of  the  rest 
of  the  peninsula.  He  had  already  offered  that  we  should 
evacuate  Minorca ;  but  he  now  stated  that,  if  France  re- 
tained her  influence  over  Italy,  England  would  claim 
Malta  as  a  set-off  to  the  vast  extension  of  French  terri- 
torial influence,  and  in  order  to  protect  English  commerce 
in  those  seas  :  for  the  rest,  the  British  Government  could 
not  regard  the  maintenance  of  the  integrity  of  Portugal 
as  an  equivalent  to  the  surrender  by  Great  Britain  of  her 
West  Indian  conquests,  especially  as  France  had  acquired 
further  portions  of  Saint  Domingo.  Nevertheless  he 
offered  to  restore  Trinidad  to  Spain,  if  she  would  reinstate 

^  ^*  New  Letters  of  Napoleon  I/'    See  too  his  letter  of  June  17th. 


XIII  THE  CONSULATE  FOB  LIFE  289 

Portugal  in  the  frontier  strip  of  Olivenza ;  and,  on 
August  5th,  he  told  Otto  that  we  would  give  up  Malta 
if  it  became  independent. 

Meanwhile  events  were,  on  the  whole,  favourable  to 
Great  Britain.  She  made  peace  with  Russia  on  favour- 
able terms ;  and  in  the  Mediterranean,  despite  a  first  suc- 
cess gained  by  the  French  Admiral  Linois  at  Algesiras,  a 
second  battle  brought  back  victory  to  the  Union  Jack. 
An  attack  made  by  Nelson  on  the  flotilla  at  Boulogne 
was  a  failure  (August  15th).  But  at  the  close  of  August 
the  French  commander  in  Egypt,  Greneral  Menou,  was 
constrained  to  agree  to  the  evacuation  of  Egypt  by  his 
troops,  which  were  to  be  sent  back  to  France  on  English 
vessels.  This  event  had  been  expected  by  Bonaparte, 
and  the  secret  instruction  which  he  forwarded  to  Otto  at 
London  shows  the  nicety  of  his  calculation  as  to  the  ad- 
vantages to  be  reaped  by  France  owing  to  her  receiving 
the  news  while  it  was  still  unknown  in  England.  He 
ordered  Qtto  to  fix  October  the  2nd  for  the  close  of  the 
negotiations : 

^*  You  will  understand  the  importance  of  this  when  yon  reflect  that 
Menou  may  possibl^r  not  be  able  to  hold  out  in  Alexandria  beyond 
the  first  of  Venddmiaire  (September  22nd^ ;  that,  at  this  season,  the 
winds  are  fair  to  come  from  Egypt,  and  ships  reach  Italy  and  Trieste 
in  very  few  days.  Thus  it  is  necessary  to  push  them  [the  negotia- 
tions] to  a  conclusion  before  Vend^miaire  10." 

The  advantages  of  an  irresponsible  autocrat  in  negotiat- 
ing with  a  Ministry  dependent  on  Parliament  have  rarely 
been  more  signally  shown.  Anxious  to  gain  popularity, 
and  unable  to  stem  the  popular  movement  for  peace.  Ad- 
dington  and  Hawkesbury  yielded  to  this  request  for  a 
fixed  limit  of  time  ;  and  the  preliminaries  of  peace  were 
signed  at  London  on  October  Ist,  1801,  the  very  day 
before  the  news  arrived  there  that  one  of  our  demandis 
was  rendered  useless  by  the  actual  surrender  of  the  French 
in  Egypt.  1 

1  •*  Comwallis  Correspondence,*'  vol.  ill.,  pp.  880'-382.  Few  records 
exist  of  the  negotiations  between  Lord  Hawkesbury  and  M.  Otto  at  Lon- 
don. I  have  found  none  in  the  Foreign  Of&ce  archives.  The  general 
facts  are  given  by  Garden,  **  Traits,"  voL  vil.,  ch.  xxxL  ;  only  a  few  of 
the  discussions  were  reduced  to  writing.  This  seriously  prejudiced  our 
interests  at  Amiens. 


290  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chat. 

The  chief  conditions  of  the  preliminaries  were  as  fol- 
lows :  Great  Britain  restored  to  France,  Spain,  and  the 
Batavian  Republic  all  their  possessions  and  colonies  re- 
cently conquered  by  her  except  Trinidad  and  Ceylon. 
The  Cape  of  Good  Hope  was  given  back  to  the  Dutch, 
but  remained  open  to  British  and  French  commerce. 
Malta  was  to  be  restored  to  the  Order  of  St.  John,  and 
placed  under  the  guarantee  and  protection  of  a  third 
Power  to  be  agreed  on  in  the  definitive  treaty.  Egypt 
returned  to  the  control  of  the  Sublime  Porte.  The  exist- 
ing possessions  of  Portugal  (that  is,  exclusive  of  Olivenza) 
were  preserved  intact.  The  French  agreed  to  loose  their 
hold  on  the  Kingdom  of  Naples  and  the  Roman  Territory  ; 
while  the  British  were  also  to  evacuate  Porto  Ferrajo 
(Elba)  and  the  other  ports  and  islands  which  they  held 
in  the  Mediterranean  and  Adriatic.  The  young  Republic 
of  the  Seven  Islands  (Ionian  Islands)  was  recQgnized  by 
France  :  and  the  fisheries  on  the  coasts  of  Newfoundland 
and  the  adjacent  isles  were  placed  on  their  former  footing, 
subject  to  ^^such  arrangements  as  shall  appear  just  and 
reciprocally  useful." 

It  was  remarked  as  significant  of  the  new  docility  of 
George  III.,  that  the  empty  title  of  "King  of  France," 
which  he  and  his  predecessors  had  affected,  was  now  for- 
mally resigned,  and  the  fleurs  de  lys  ceased  to  appear  on  the 
royal  arms. 

Thus,  with  three  exceptions,  Great  Britain  had  given 
way  on  every  point  of  importance  since  the  first  declara- 
tion of  her  claims ;  the  three  exceptions  were  Trinidad 
and  Ceylon,  which  she  gained  from  the  allies  of  France ; 
and  Egypt,  the  recovery  of  which  from  the  French  was 
already  achieved,  though  it  was  unknown  at  London. 
On  every  detail  but  these  Bonaparte  had  gained  a  signal 
diplomatic  success.  His  skill  and  tenacity  bade  fair  to 
recover  for  France,  Martinique,  Tobago,  and  Santa  Lucia, 
then  in  British  hands,  as  well  as  the  French  stations  in 
India.  The  only  British  gains,  after  nine  years  of  war- 
fare, fruitful  in  naval  triumphs,  but  entailing  an  addition 
of  jB  290,000,000  to  the  National  Debt,  were  the  islands 
of  Trinidad  and  the  Dutch  possessions  in  Ceylon.  And 
yet  in  the  six  months  spent  in  negotiations  the  general 


xiii  THE  CONSULATE  FOR  LIFE  291 

course  of  events  had  been  favourable  to  the  northern 
Power.  What  then  had  been  lacking  ?  Certainly  not 
valour  to  her  warriors,  nor  good  fortune  to  her  flag  ;  but 
merely  brain  power  to  her  rulers.  They  had  little  of 
that  foresight,  skill,  and  intellectual  courage,  without 
which  even  the  exploits  of  a  Nelson  are  of  little  permanent 
effect. 

Reserving  for  treatment  in  the  next  chapter  the  ques- 
tions arising  from  these  preliminaries  and  the  resulting 
Peace  of  Amiens,  we  turn  now  to  consider  their  bearing 
on  Bonaparte's  position  as  First  Consul.  The  return  of 
peace  after  an  exhausting  war  is  always  welcome  ;  yet 
the  patriotic  Briton  who  saw  the  National  Debt  more  than 
doubled,  with  no  adequate  gain  in  land  or  influence,  could 
not  but  contrast  the  aifference  in  the  fortunes  of  France. 
That  Power  had  now  gained  the  Rhine  boundary ;  her 
troops  garrisoned  the  fortresses  of  Holland  and  Northern 
Italy ;  her  chief  dictated  his  will  to  German  princelings 
and  to  the  once  free  Switzers ;  while  the  Court  of  Madrid, 
nay,  the  Eternal  City  herself,  obeyed  his  behests.  And 
all  this  prodigious  expansion  had  been  accomplished  at 
little  apparent  cost  to  France  herself ;  for  the  victors' 
bill  haa  been  very  largely  met  out  of  the  resources  of  the 
conquered  territories.  It  is  true  that  her  nobles  and 
clergy  had  suffered  fearful  losses  in  lands  and  treasure, 
while  her  trading  classes  had  cruelly  felt  the  headlong 
fall  in  value  of  her  paper  notes  :  but  in  a  land  endowed 
with  a  bounteous  soil  and  climate  such  losses  are  soon 
repaired,  and  the  signature  of  the  peace  with  England  left 
France  comparatively  prosperous.  In  October  the  First 
Consul  also  concluded  peace  with  Russia,  and  came  to  a 
friendly  understanding  with  the  Czar  on  Italian  affairs  and 
the  question  of  indemnities  for  the  dispossessed  German 
Princes.^ 

Bonaparte  now  strove  to  extend  the  colonies  and  com- 
merce of  France,  a  topic  to  which  we  shall  return  later 
on,  and  to  develop  her  internal  resources.  The  chief  roads 
were  repaired,  and  ceased  to  be  in  the  miserable  condition  in 
which  the  abolition  of  the  corvSes  in  1789  had  left  them  : 
canals  were  dug  to  connect  the  chief  river  systems  of  France, 

^  Lefebyre,  **  Cabinets  de  PEuiope/^  ch.  iy. 


292  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

or  were  greatly  improved ;  and  Paris  soon  benefited  from 
the  construction  of  the  Scheldt  and  Oise  canal,  which 
brought  the  resources  of  Belgium  within  easy  reach  of  the 
centre  of  France.  Ports  were  deepened  and  extended; 
and  Marseilles  entered  on  golden  vistas  of  prosperity  soon 
to  be  closed  by  the  renewed  of  war  with  England.  Com- 
munications with  Italy  were  facilitated  by  the  improvement 
of  the  road  between  Marseilles  and  Genoa,  as  sdso  of  the 
tracks  leading  over  the  Simplon,  Mont  Cenis,  and  Ij^ont 
Genevre  passes :  the  roads  leading  to  the  Rhine  and  along 
its  left  bank  also  attested  the  First  Consul's  desire,  not 
only  to  extend  commerce,  but  to  protect  his  natural  boun- 
dary on  the  east.  The  results  of  this  road-making  were 
to  be  seen  in  the  campaign  of  Ulm,  when  the  French 
forces  marched  from  Boulogne  to  the  Black  Forest  at 
an  unparalleled  speed. 

Paris  in  particular  felt  his  renovating  hand.  With  the 
abrupt,  determined  tones  which  he  assumed  more  and  more 
on  reaching  absolute  power,  he  one  day  said  to  Chaptal  at 
Malmaison : 

**  I  intend  to  make  Paris  the  most  beautiful  capital  of  the  world : 
I  wish  that  in  ten  years  it  should  number  two  millions  of  inhabitants." 
"  But,"  replied  his  Minister  of  the  Interior,  ^  one  cannot  improvise 
population ;  ...  as  it  is,  Paris  would  scarcely  support  one  million ; " 
and  he  instanced  the  want  of  good  drinkine  water.  *'  What  are  your 
plans  for  giving  water  to  Paris  ?  "  Chaptskl  ffave  two  alternatives  — 
artesian  wells,  or  the  bringing  of  water  n'om  the  River  Ourcq  to  Paris. 
**  I  adopt  the  latter  plan :  go  home  and  order  five  hundred  men  to 
set  to  work  to-morrow  at  1a  Villette  to  dig  the  canal." 

Such  was  the  inception  of  a  great  public  work  which  cost 
more  than  half  a  million  sterling.  The  provisioning 
of  Paris  also  received  careful  attention,  a  large  reserve  of 
wheat  being  always  kept  on  hand  for  the  satisfaction  of 
"a  populace  which  is  only  dangerous  when  it  is  hungry." 
Bonaparte  therefore  insisted  on  corn  being  stored  and 
sold  in  large  quantities  and  at  a  very  low  price,  even  when 
considerable  loss  was  thereby  entailed.^  But  besides  sup- 
plying panem  he  also  provided  circenses  to  an  extent  never 
known  even  in  the  days  of  Louis  XV.  State  aid  was 
largely  granted  to  the  chief  theatres,  where   Bonaparte 

1  Chaptal,  <'Mes  Souvenirs,"  pp.  287,  291,  and  359. 


XIII  THE  CONSULATE  FOR  LIFE  293 

himself  was  a  frequent  attendant,  and  a  willing  captive 
to  the  charms  of  the  actress  Mile.  Georges. 

The  beautifying  of  Paris  was,  however,  the  chief  means 
employed  by  Bonaparte  for  weaning  its  populace  from 
politics ;  and  his  efforts  to  this  end  were  soon  crowned 
with  complete  success.  Here  again  the  events  of  the 
Revolution  had  left  the  field  clear  for  vast  works  of  re- 
construction such  as  would  have  been  impossible  but  for 
the  abolition  of  the  many  monastic  institutions  of  old 
Paris.  On  or  near  the  sites  of  the  famous  Feuillants 
and  Jacobins  he  now  laid  down  splendid  thoroughfares ; 
and  where  the  constitutionals  or  reds  a  decade  previously 
had  perorated  and  fought,  the  fashionable  world  of  Paris 
now  rolled  in  gilded  cabriolets  along  streets  whose  names 
recalled  the  Italian  and  Egyptian  triumphs  of  the  First 
Consul.  Art  and  culture  bowed  down  to  the  ruler  who 
ordered  the  renovation  of  the  Louvre,  which  now  became 
the  treasure-house  ^  of  painting  and  sculpture,  enriched  by 
masterpieces  taken  from  many  an  Italian  gallery.  No 
enterprise  has  more  conspicuously  helped  to  assure  the 
position  of  Paris  as  the  capital  of  the  world's  culture 
than  Bonaparte's  grouping  of  the  nation's  art  treasures 
in  a  central  and  magnificent  building.  In  the  first  year 
of  his  Empire  Napoleon  gave  orders  for  the  construction 
of  vast  galleries  which  were  to  connect  the  northern 
pavilion  of  the  Tuileries  with  the  Louvre  and  form  a 
splendid  facade  to  the  new  Rue  de  Rivoli.  Despite  the 
expense,  the  work  was  pushed  on  until  it  was  suddenly 
arrested  by  the  downfall  of  the  Empire,  and  was  left  to 
the  great  man's  nephew  to  complete.  Though  it  is  pos- 
sible, as  Chaptal  avers,  that  the  original  design  aimed 
at  the  formation  of  a  central  fortress,  yet  to  all  lovers  of 
art,  above  all  to  the  hero-worshipping  Heine,  the  new 
Louvre  was  a  sure  pledge  of  Napoleon's  immortality. 

Other  works  which  combined  beauty  with  utility  were 
the  prolongation  of  the  quays  along  the  left  bank  of  the 
Seine,  the  building  of  three  bridges  over  that  river,  the 
improvement  of  the  Jardin  des  Plantes,  together  with 
that  of  other  parks  and  open  spaces,  and  the  completion 
of  the  Conservatoire  of  Arts  and  TriEtdes.  At  a  later 
date,  the  military  spirit  of  the   Empire  received  signal 


2M  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

illustration  in  the  erection  of  the  Yendome  column,  the  Arc 
de  Triomphe,  and  the  consecration,  or  desecration,  of  the 
Madeleine  as  a  temple  of  glory. 

Many  of  these  works  were  subsequent  to  the  period 
which  we  are  considering  ;  but  the  enterprises  of  the 
Emperor  represent  the  designs  of  the  First  Consul ;  and 
the  plans  for  the  improvement  of  Paris  formed  during  the 
Consulate  were  sufficient  to  inspire  the  Parisians  with 
lively  gratitude  and  to  turn  them  from  political  specula- 
tions to  scenes  of  splendour  and  gaiety  that  recalled  the 
days  of  Louis  XIV,  If  we  may  believe  the  testimony  of 
Romilly,  who  visited  Paris  in  1802,  the  new  policy  had 
even  then  attained  its  end. 

^  The  quiet  despotism,  which  leaves  everybody  who  does  not  wish 
to  meddle  with  politics  (and  few  at  present  have  any  such  wish)  in  the 
full  and  secure  enjoyment  of  their  property  and  of  their  pleasures,  is 
a  sort  of  paradise,  compared  with  the  agitation,  the  perpetual  alarms, 
the  scenes  of  infamy,  oi  bloodshed,  which  accompanied  the  pretended 
liberties  of  France." 

But  while  acknowledging  the  material  benefits  of  Bonar 
parte's  rule,  the  same  friend  of  liberty  notes  with  con- 
cern : 

<<  That  he  [Bonaparte]  meditates  the  gaining  fresh  laurels  in  war 
can  hardly  be  doubted,  if  the  accounts  which  one  hears  of  his  restless 
and  impatient  disposition  be  true." 

However  much  the  populace  delighted  in  this  new 
rSgime^  the  many  ardent  souls  who  had  dared  and  achieved 
so  much  in  the  sacred  quest  of  liberty  could  not  refrain 
from  protesting  against  the  innovations  which  were  re- 
storing personal  rule.  Though  the  Press  was  gagged, 
though  as  many  as  thirty-two  Depai-tments  were  subjected 
to  the  scrutiny  of  special  tribunals,  which,  under  the 
guise  of  stamping  out  brigandage,  frequently  punished 
opponents  of  the  Government,  yet  the  voice  of  criticism 
was  not  wholly  silenced.  The  project  of  the  Concordat 
was  sharply  opposed  in  the  Tribunate,  which  also  ventured 
to  declare  that  the  first  sections  of  the  Civil  Code  were 
not  conformable  to  the  principles  of  1789  and  to  the  first 
draft  of  a  code  presented  to  the  Convention.     The  Gov- 


zin  THE  CONSULATE  FOB  LIFE  205 

erament  thereupon  refused  to  send  to  the  Tribunate  any 
important  measures,  but  merely  flung  them  a  mass  of 
petty  details  to  discuss,  as  ^^  banes  to  gnatv^^^  until  the  time 
for  the  renewal  by  lot  of  a  fifth  of  its  members  should 
come  round.  During  a  discussion  at  the  Council  of  State, 
the  First  Consul  hinted  with  much  frankness  at  the 
methods  which  ought  to  be  adopted  to  quell  the  factious 
opposition  of  the  Tribunate  : 

<<  One  cannot  work  with  an  institution  so  productive  of  disorder. 
The  constitution  has  created  a  legislative  power  composed  of  three 
bodies.  None  of  these  branches  has  any  right  to  organize  itself :  that 
must  be  done  by  the  law.  Therefore  we  must  make  a  body  which  shall 
organize  the  manner  of  deliberations  of  these  three  branches.  The 
Tnbunate  ought  to  be  divided  into  five  sections.  The  discussion  of 
laws  will  take  place  secretly  in  each  section :  one  might  even  introduce 
a  discussion  between  these  sections  and  those  of  the  Council  of  State. 
Only  the  reporter  will  speak  publicly.  Then  things  will  go  on 
reasonably." 

Having  delivered  this  opinion,  ex  cathedra^  he  departed 
(January  7th,  1802)  for  Lyons,  there  to  be  invested  with 
supreme  authority  in  the  reconstituted  Cisalpine,  or  as  it 
was  now  termed,  Italian  Republic.^  Returning  at  the 
close  of  the  month,  radiant  with  the  lustre  of  this  new 
dignity,  he  was  able  to  bend  the  Tribunate  and  the 
Corps  LSgUlatif  to  his  will.  The  renewal  of  their  mem- 
bership by  one-fifth  served  as  the  opportunity  for  subject- 
ing them  to  the  more  pliable  Senate.  This  august  body 
of  highly-paid  members  holding  office  for  life  had  the  right 
of  nominating  the  new  members  ;  but  hitherto  the  retiring 
members  had  been  singled  out  by  lot.  Roederer,  acting 
on  a  hint  of  the  time-serving  Second  Consul,  now  proposed 
in  the  Council  of  State  that  the  retiring  members  of 
those  Chambers  should  thenceforth  be  appointed  by  the 
Senate,  and  not  by  lot ;  for  the  principle  of  the  lot,  he 
quaintly  urged,  was  hostile  to  the  right  of  election 
which  belonged  to  the  Senate.  Against  such  conscious 
sophistry  all  the  bolts  of  logic  were  harmless.  The  ques- 
tion was  left  undecided,  in  order  that  the  Senate  might 
forthwith  declare  in  favour  of  its  own  right  to  determine 
every  year  not  only  the  elections  to,  but  the  exclusions 

1  See  Chapter  XIV.  of  this  work. 


296  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chjlp. 

from,  the  Tribunate  and  the  Corp9  LSgi%lat^.  A  %enatiu 
cansultum  of  March  legalized  this  monstrous  innovation, 
which  led  to  the  exclusion  from  the  Tribunate  of  zealous 
republicans  like  Benjamin  Constant,  Isnard,  Ganilh, 
Daunou,  and  Chenier.  The  infusion  of  the  senatorial 
nominees  served  to  complete  the  nullity  of  these  bodies ; 
and  the  Tribunate,  the  lineal  descendant  of  the  terrible 
Convention,  was  gagged  and  bound  within  eight  years 
of  the  stilling  of  Danton's  mighty  voice. 

In  days  when  civic  zeal  was  the  strength  of  the  French 
Republic,  the  mere  suggestion  of  such  a  violation  of 
liberty  would  have  cost  the  speaker  his  life.  But  since 
the  rise  of  Bonaparte,  civic  sentiments  had  yielded  place 
to  the  military  spirit  and  to  boundless  pride  in  the  nation's 
glory.  Whenever  republican  feelings  were  outraged, 
there  were  sufficient  distractions  to  dissipate  any  of  the 
sombre  broodings  which  Bonaparte  so  heartily  disliked ; 
and  an  event  of  international  importance  now  came  to  still 
the  voice  of  political  criticism. 

The  signature  of  the  definitive  treaty  of  peace  with 
Great  Britain  (March  27th,  1802)  sufficed  to  drown  the 
muttered  discontent  of  the  old  republican  party  under 
the  paeans  of  a  nation's  joy.  The  jubilation  was  natural. 
While  Londoners  were  grumbling  at  the  sacrifices  which 
Addington's  timidity  had  entailed,  all  France  rang  with 
praises  of  the  diplomatic  skill  which  could  rescue  several 
islands  from  England's  grip  and  yet  assure  French  suprem- 
acy  on  the  Continent.  The  event  seemed  to  call  for  some 
sign  of  the  nation's  thankfulness  to  the  restorer  of  peace 
and  prosperity.  The  hint  having  been  given  by  the  tact- 
ful Cambaceres  to  some  of  the  members  of  the  Tribunate, 
this  now  docile  body  expressed  a  wish  that  there  should 
be  a  striking  token  of  the  national  gratitude;  and  a 
motion  to  that  effect  was  made  by  the  Senate  to  the  Carps 
Ligislatif  and  to  the  Government  itself. 

The  form  which  the  national  memorial  should  take  was 
left  entirely  vague.  Under  ordinary  circumstances  the 
outcome  would  have  been  a  column  or  a  statue :  to  a 
Napoleon  it  was  monarchy. 

The  Senate  was  in  much  doubt  as  to  the  fit  course  of 
action.     The  majority  desired  to  extend  the  Consulate 


xm  THE  CONSULATE  FOR  LIFE  2«7 

for  a  second  term  of  ten  years,  and  a  formal  motion  to 
that  effect  was  made  on  May  7th.  It  was  opposed  by  a 
few,  some  of  whom  demanded  the  prolongation  for  life. 
The  president,  Tronchet,  prompted  by  Fouche  and  other 
republicans,  held  that  only  the  question  of  prolonging  the 
Consulate  for  another  term  of  ten  years  was  before  the 
Senate :  and  the  motion  was  carried  by  sixty  votes  against 
one :  the  dissentient  voice  was  that  of  the  Girondin  Lan- 
juinais.  The  report  of  this  vote  disconcerted  the  First 
Consul,  but  he  replied  with  some  constraint  that  as  the 
people  had  invested  him  with  the  supreme  magistrature, 
he  would  not  feel  assured  of  its  confidence  unless  the 
present  proposal  were  also  sanctioned  by  its  vote  :  "  You 
judge  that  I  owe  the  people  another  sacrifice :  I  will  give 
it  if  the  people's  voice  orders  what  your  vote  now  author- 
izes.'* But  before  the  mass  vote  of  the  people  was  taken, 
an  important  change  had  been  made  in  the  proposal  itself. 
It  was  well  known  that  Bonaparte  was  dissatisfied  with 
the  senatorial  offer :  and  at  a  special  session  of  the  Coun- 
cil of  State,  at  which  Ministers  were  present,  the  Second 
Consul  urged  that  they  must  now  decide  how,  when,  and 
on  what  question  the  people  were  to  be  consulted.  The 
whole  question  recently  settled  by  the  Senate  was  thus 
reopened  in  a  way  that  illustrated  the  advantage  of  multi- 
plying councils  and  of  keeping  them  under  official  tute- 
lage. The  Ministers  present  asserted  that  the  people 
disapproved  of  the  limitations  of  time  imposed  by  the 
Senate;  and  after  some  discussion  Cambaceres  procured 
the  decision  that  the  consultation  of  the  people  should  be 
on  the  questions  whether  the  First  Consul  should  hold 
his  power  for  life,  and  whether  he  should  nominate  his 
successor. 

To  the  latter  part  of  this  proposal  the  First  Consul 
offered  a  well-judged  refusal.  To  consult  the  people  on 
the  restoration  of  monarchy  would,  as  yet,  have  been  as 
inopportune  as  it  was  superfluous.  After  gaining  com- 
plete power,  Bonaparte  could  be  well  assured  as  to  the 
establishment  of  an  hereditary  claim.  The  former  and 
less  offensive  part  of  the  proposal  was  therefore  sub- 
mitted to  the  people ;  and  to  it  there  could  be  only  one 
issue  amidst  the  prosperity  brought  by  the  peace,  and  the 


298  THE  LIF£  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

sarveillance  exercised  by  the  prefects  and  the  g^tefol 
clergy  now  brought  bacK  by  the  Concordat.  The  Con- 
sulate for  Life  was  voted  by  the  enormous  majority  of 
more  than  3,500,000  affirmative  votes  against  8374  nega- 
tives. But  among  these  dissentients  were  many  hon- 
oured names:  among  military  men  Camot,  Drouot, 
Mouton,  and  Bernard  opposed  the  innovation ;  and  La- 
fayette made  the  public  statement  that  he  could  not  vote 
for  such  a  magistracy  unless  political  liberty  were  guar- 
anteed. A  senatus  conmdtum  of  August  1st  forthwith 
proclaimed  Napoleon  Bonaparte  Consul  for  Life  and 
ordered  the  erection  of  a  Statue  of  Peace  holding  in 
one  hand  the  victor's  laurel  and  in  the  other  the  senato- 
rial decree. 

On  the  following  day  Napoleon  —  for  henceforth  he 
generally  used  his  Uhristian  name  like  other  monarchs  — 
presented  to  the  Council  of  State  a  project  of  an  organic 
law,  which  virtually  amounted  to  a  new  constitution. 
The  mere  fact  of  its  presentation  at  so  early  a  date  suf- 
fices to  prove  how  completely  he  had  prepared  for  the 
recent  change  and  how  thoroughly  assured  be  was  of  suc- 
cess. This  important  measure  was  hurried  through  the 
Senate,  and,  without  being  submitted  to  the  Tribunate 
or  Corp9  LSffislatifj  still  less  to  the  people,  for  whose 
sanction  he  had  recently  affected  so  much  concern  —  was 
declared  to  be  the  fundamental  law  of  the  State. 

The  fifth  constitution  of  revolutionary  France  may  be 
thus  described.  It  began  by  altering  the  methods  of  elec- 
tion. In  place  of  Sieyes'  lists  of  notabilities,  Bonaparte 
proposed  a  simpler  plan.  The  adult  citizens  of  each  can- 
ton were  thenceforth  to  meet,  for  electoral  purposes,  in 
primary  assemblies,  to  name  two  candidates  for  the  office 
oijuge  de  paiz  (i.e.,  magistrate)  and  town  councillor,  and 
to  choose  the  members  of  the  "  electoral  colleges  "  for  the 
arrandissement  and  for  the  Department.  In  the  latter  case 
only  the  600  most  wealthy  men  of  the  Department  were 
eligible.  An  official  or  aristocratic  tinge  was  to  be  im- 
parted to  these  electoral  colleges  by  the  infusion  of  mem- 
bers selected  by  the  First  Consul  from  the  members  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour.  Fixity  of  opinion  was  also  assured  by 
members  holding  office  for  life;  and,  as  they  were  elected 


zni  THE  CONSULATE  FOB  LIFE  299 

in  the  midst  of  the  enthusiasm  aroused  by  the  Peace  of 
Amiens,  they  were  decidedly  Bonapartist. 

The  electoral  colleges  had  the  following  powers :  they 
nominated  two  candidates  for  each  place  vacant  in  the 
merely  consultative  councils  of  their  respective  areas,  and 
had  the  equally  barren  honour  of  presenting  two  candi- 
dates for  the  Tribunate  —  the  final  act  of  ielectian  being 
decided  by  the  executive,  that  is,  by  the  First  Consul. 
Corresponding  privileges  were  accorded  to  the  electoral 
colleges  of  the  Department,  save  that  these  plutocratic 
bodies  had  the  right  of  presenting  candidates  for  admis- 
sion to  the  Senate.  The  lists  of  candidates  for  the  Corp$ 
LSgUlaUf  were  to  be  formed  by  the  joint  action  of  tne 
electoral  colleges,  namely,  those  of  the  Departments  and 
those  of  the  arrondis9ementi.  But  as  the  resulting  coun- 
cils and  parliamentary  bodies  had  only  the  shadow  of 
power,  the  whole  apparatus  was  but  an  imposing  machine 
for  winnowing  the  air  and  threshing  chaff. 

The  First  Consul  secured  few  aaditional  rights  or  at- 
tributes, except  the  exercise  of  the  royal  prerogative  of 
granting  pardon.  But,  in  truth,  his  own  powers  were 
already  so  large  that  they  were  scarcely  susceptible  of  ex- 
tension. The  three  Consuls  held  office  for  life,  and  were 
ex  officio  members  of  the  Senate.  The  second  and  third 
Consuls  were  nominated  by  the  Senate  on  the  presentation 
of  the  First  Consul :  the  Senate  might  reject  two  names 
proposed  by  him  for  either  office,  but  they  must  accept  his 
third  nominee.  The  First  Consul  might  deposit  in  the 
State  archives  his  proposal  as  to  his  successor  :  if  the  Sen- 
ate rejected  this  proposal,  the  second  and  third  Consuls 
made  a  suggestion ;  and  if  it  were  rejected,  one  of  the 
two  whom  they  thereupon  named  must  be  elected  by  the 
Senate.  The  three  legislative  bodies  lost  practically  all 
their  powers,  those  of  the  Corpi  LSgidatif  going  to  the 
Senate,  those  of  the  Council  of  State  to  an  official  Cabal 
formed  out  of  it ;  while  the  Tribunate  was  forced  to  de- 
hate  secretly  in  five  sections^  where,  as  Bonaparte  observed, 
they  might  jabber  as  they  liked. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  attributes  of  the  Senate  were 
signally  enhanced.  It  was  thenceforth  charged,  not  only 
with  the  preservation  of  the  republican  constitution,  but 


300  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chi^. 

with  its  interpretation  in  disputed  points,  and  its  comple- 
tion wherever  it  should  be  found  wanting.  Furthermore, 
by  means  of  organic  %enaUis  conatUta  it  was  empowered  to 
make  constitutions  for  the  French  colonies,  or  to  suspend 
trial  by  jury  for  five  years  in  any  Pepartment,  or  even  to 
declare  it  outside  the  limits  of  the  constitution.  It  now 
gained  the  right  of  being  consulted  in  regard  to  the  rati- 
fication of  treaties,  previously  enjoyed  by  the  Corps  LSgis- 
latif.  Finally,  it  could  dissolve  the  Q(yrp%  LSgislatif  and 
the  Tribunate.  But  this  formidable  machinery  was  kept 
under  the  strict  control  of  the  chief  engineer :  all'  these 
powers  were  set  in  motion  on  the  initiative  of  the  Govern- 
ment ;  and  the  proposals  for  its  laws,  or  senatus  comndtOy 
were  discussed  in  the  Cabal  of  the  Council  of  State  named 
by  the  First  ^Consul.  This  precaution  might  have  been 
deemed  superfluous  ixf  a  ruler  less  careful  about  details 
than  Napoleon  j  the  composition  of  the  Senate  was  such 
as  to  assure  its  pliabflity  ;  for  though  it  continued  to 
renew  its  ranks  by  cb-optation,  yet  that  privilege  was  re- 
stricted in  the  following  way :  from  the  lists  of  candidates 
for  the  Senate  sent  up  by  the  electoral  colleges  of  the 
Departments,  Napoleon  selected  three  for  each  seat  va- 
cant ;  <me  of  those  three  must  be  chosen  by  the  Senate. 
Moreover,  the  First  Consul  was  to  be  allowed  directly  to 
nominate  forty  members  in  addition  to  the  eighty  pre- 
scribed by  the  constitution  of  1799.  Thus,  by  direct  or 
indirect  means,  the  Senate  soon  became  a  strict  Napoleonic 
preserve,  to  which  only  the  most  devoted  adherents  could 
aspire.  And  yet,  such  is  the  vanity  of  human  efforts,  it 
was  this  very  body  which  twelve  years  later  was  to  vote 
his  deposition.^ 

The  victory  of  action  over  talk,  of  the  executive  over 
the  legislature,  of  the  one  supremely  able  man  over  the 
discordant  and  helpless  many,  was  now  complete.  The 
process  was  startlingly  swift ;  yet  its  chief  stages  are  not 
difficult  to  trace.  The  orators  of  the  first  two  National 
Assemblies  of  France,  after  wrecking  the  old  royal  au- 
thority, were  constrained  by  the  pressure  of  events  to 
intrust  the  supervision  of  the  executive  powers  to  im- 
portant  committees,  whose   functions  grew  with  the  in- 

1  Thibaudeau,  op.  cit.,  ch.  xxvi. ;  Laviase,  '*Napol6on,**  ch.  i. 


xiu  THE  CONSULATE  FOB  LIFE  801 

tensity  of  the  national  danger.  Amidst  the  agonies  of 
1793,  when  France  was  menaced  by  the  First  Coalition, 
the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  leaped  forth  as  the  en- 
sanguined champion  of  democracy ;  and,  as  the  crisis 
developed  in  intensity,  this  terrible  body  and  the  Com- 
mittee of  General  Security  virtually  governed  France. 

After  the  repulse  of  the  invaders  and  the  fall  of  Robes- 
pierre, the  return  to  ordinary  methods  was  marked  by  the 
institution  of  the  Directory,  when  five  men,  chosen  by 
the  legislature,  controlled  the  executive  powers  and  the 
genersd  policy  of  the  Republic  :  that  compromise  was 
forcibly  ended  by  the  stroke  of  Brumaire.  Three  Con- 
suls then  seized  the  reins,  and  two  years  later  a  single 
charioteer  gripped  the  destinies  of  France.  His  powers 
were,  in  fact,  ultimately  derived  from  those  of  the  secret 
committees  of  the  terrorists.  But,  unlike  the  supremacy 
of  Robespierre,  that  of  Napoleon  could  not  be  disputed  ; 
for  the  general,  while  guarding  all  the  material  boons 
which  the  Revolution  had  conferred,  conciliated  the  inter- 
ests and  classes  whereon  the  civilian  had  so  brutally 
trampled.  The  new  autocracy  therefore  possessed  a 
solid  strength  which  that  of  the  terrorists  could  never 
possess.  Indeed,  it  was  more  absolute  than  the  dicta- 
torial power  that  Rousseau  had  outlined.  The  philos- 
opher had  asserted  that,  while  silencing  the  legislative 
power,  the  dictator  really  made  it  vocal,  and  that  he 
could  do  everything  but  make  laws.  But  Napoleon,  after 
1802,  did  far  more  :  he  suppressed  debates  and  yet  drew 
laws  from  his  subservient  legislature.  Whether,  then,  we 
regard  its  practical  importance  for  France  and  Europe, 
or  limit  our  view  to  the  mental  sagacity  and  indomitable 
will-power  required  for  its  accomplishment,  the  triumph 
of  Napoleon  in  the  three  years  subsequent  to  his  return 
from  Egypt  is  the  most  stupendous  recorded  in  the  his- 
tory of  civilized  peoples. 

The  populace  consoled  itself  for  the  loss  of  political 
liberty  by  the  splendour  of  the  fete  which  heralded  the 
title  of  First  Consul  for  Life,  proclaimed  on  August  16th  : 
that  day  was  also  memorable  as  being  the  First  Consul's 
thirty-third  birthday,  the  festival  of  the  Assumption,  and 
the  anniversary  of  the  ratification  of  the  Concordat.     The 


302  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

decorations  and  fireworks  were  worthy  of  so  remarkable 
a  confiuence  of  solemnities.  High  on  one  of  the  towers 
of  Notre  Dame  glittered  an  enormous  star,  and  at  its 
centre  there  shone  the  sign  of  the  Zodiac  which  had  shed 
its  influence  over  his  first  hours  of  life.  The  myriads  of 
spectators  who  gazed  at  that  natal  emblem  might  well 
have  thought  that  his  life's  star  was  now  at  its  zenith. 
Few  could  have  dared  to  think  that  it  was  to  mount  far 
higher  into  unknown  depths  of  space,  blazing  as  a  baleful 
portent  to  kings  and  peoples ;  still  less  was  there  any 
Cassandra  shriek  of  doom  as  to  its  final  headlong  fall  into 
the  wastes  of  ocean.  All  was  joy  and  jubilation  over  a 
career  that  had  even  now  surpassed  the  records  of  antique 
heroism,  that  blended  the  romance  of  oriental  prowess 
with  the  beneficent  toils  of  the  legislator,  and  prospered 
alike  in  war  and  peace. 

And  yet  black  care  cast  one  shadow  over  that  jubilant 
festival.  There  was  a  void  in  the  First  Consul's  life 
such  as  saddened  but  few  of  the  millions  of  peasants  who 
looked  up  to  him  as  their  saviour.  His  wife  had  borne 
him  no  heir :  and  there  seemed  no  prospect  that  a  child 
of  his  own  would  ever  succeed  to  his  glorious  heritage. 
Family  joys,  it  seemed,  were  not  for  him.  Suspicions 
and  bickerings  were  his  lot.  His  brothers,  in  their  fever- 
ish desire  for  the  establishment  of  a  Bonapartist  dynasty, 
ceaselessly  urged  that  he  should  take  means  to  provide 
himself  with  a  legitimate  heir,  in  the  last  resort  by 
divorcing  Josephine.  With  a  consideration  for  her  feel- 
ings which  does  him  credit,  Napoleon  refused  to  counte- 
nance such  proceedings.  Yet  it  is  certain  that  from  this 
time  onwards  he  kept  in  view  the  desirability,  on  political 
grounds,  of  divorcing  her,  and  made  this  the  excuse  for 
indulgence  in  amours  against  which  Josephine's  tears  and 
reproaches  were  all  in  vain. 

The  consolidation  of  personal  rule,  the  institution  of 
the  Legion  of  Honour,  and  the  return  of  very  many  of 
the  emigrant  nobles  under  the  terms  of  the  recent  am- 
nesty, favoured  the  growth  of  luxury  in  the  capital  and 
of  Court  etiquette  at  the  Tuileries  and  St.  Cloud.  At 
these  palaces  the  pomp  of  the  ancien  rSgime  was  labori- 
ously copied.     General  Duroc,  stiff  republican  though  he 


XIII  THE  CONSULATE  FOB  LIFE  303 

was,  received  the  appointment  of  Governor  ot  the  Palace ; 
under  him  were  chamberlains  and  prefects  of  the  palace, 
who  enforced  a  ceremonial  that  struggled  to  be  monarch- 
ical. The  gorgeous  liveries  and  sumptuous  garments  of 
the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  speedily  replaced  the  military 
dress  which  even  civilians  had  worn  under  the  warlike 
Republic.  High  boots,  sabres,  and  regimental  headgear 
gave  way  to  buckled  shoes,  silk  stockings.  Court  rapiers, 
and  light  hats,  the  last  generally  held  under  the  arm.  Tri- 
colour cockades  were  discarded,  along  with  the  revolu- 
tionary jargon  which  thou'd  and  citizen'd  everyone  ;  and 
men  began  to  purge  their  speech  of  some  of  tne  obscene 
terms  which  had  haunted  clubs  and  camps. 

It  was  remarked,  however,  that  the  First  Consul  still 
clung  to  the  use  of  the  term  citizen^  and  that  amidst  the 
surprising  combinations  of  colours  that  flecked  his  Court, 
he  generally  wore  only  the  uniform  of  a  colonel  of  grena- 
diers or  of  the  light  infantry  of  the  Consular  Guard.  This 
conduct  resulted  partly  from  his  early  dislike  of  luxury, 
but  partly,  doubtless,  from  a  conviction  that  republicans 
will  forgive  much  in  a  man  who,  like  Vespasian,  discards 
the  grandeur  which  his  prowess  has  won,  and  shines  by 
his  very  plainness.  To  trifling  matters  such  as  these 
Napoleon  always  attached  great  importance ;  for,  as  he 
said  to  Admiral  Malcolm  at  St.  Helena :  ^^  In  France 
trifles  are  great  things:  reason  is  nothing.''^  Besides, 
genius  so  commanding  as  his  little  needed  the  external 
trappings  wherewith  ordinary  mortals  hide  their  nullity. 
If  his  attire  was  simple,  it  but  set  off  the  better  the  play 
of  his  mobile  features,  and  the  rich,  unfailing  flow  of  his 
conversation.  '  Perhaps  no  clearer  and  more  pleasing 
account  of  his  appearance  and  his  conduct  at  a  reception 
has  ever  been  given  to  the  world  than  this  sketch  of  the 
great  man  in  one  of  his  gentler  moods  by  John  Leslie 
Foster,  who  visited  Paris  shortly  after  the  Peace  of 
Amiens : 

"  He  is  about  five  feet  seven  inches  high,  delicately  and  gracefully 
made ;  his  hair  a  dark  brown  crop,  thin  and  lank ;  his  complexion 
smooth,  pale,  and  sallow ;  his  eyes  gray,  but  very  animated ;  his  eye- 

1  *•  A  Diary  of  St.  Helena,"  by  Lady  Malcolm,  p.  97. 


304  TH£  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

brows  light  brown,  thin  and  projecting.  All  his  featores,  particu- 
larly his  mouth  and  nose,  fine,  sharo,  defined,  and  expressive  oeyond 
description ;  expressive  of  what  ?  Not  of  anything  perct  as  the  prints 
expressed  him,  still  less  of  anything  mecharU;  nor  has  he  an^thine 
of  that  eye  whose  bend  doth  awe  the  world.  The  true  expression  of 
his  countenance  is  a  pleasing  melanchol]^,  which,  whenever  he  speaks, 
relaxes  into  the  most  ameaole  and  gracious  snule  you  can  conceive. 
To  this  you  must  add  the  appearance  of  deep  and  intense  thought,  but 
above  all  the  predominating  expression  a  look  of  calm  and  tranquil 
resolution  ana  intrepidity  which  nothing  human  could  discompose. 
His  address  is  the  finest  I  have  ever  seen,  and  said  by  those  who  nave 
travelled  to  exceed  not  only  every  Prince  and  Potentate  now  in  being, 
but  even  aU  those  whose  memory  has  come  down  to  us.  He  has 
more  unaffected  dignity  than  I  could  conceive  in  man.  His  address 
is  the  gentlest  and  most  prepossessing  you  can  conceive,  which  is  sec- 
onded by  the  greatest  fund  of  lev^e  conversation  that  I  suppose  any 
person  ever  possessed.  He  s^aks  deliberately,  but  very  fluentlv, 
with  particular  emphasis,  and  m  a  rather  low  tone  of  voice.  While 
he  Bj^&kSf  his  features  are  still  more  expressive  than  his  words."  * 

In  contrast  with  this  intellectual  power  and  becoming 
simplicity  of  attire,  how  stupid  and  tawdry  were  the 
bevies  of  soulless  women  and  the  dumb  groups  of  half- 
tamed  soldiers  I  How  vapid  also  the  rules  of  etiquette 
and  precedence  which  starched  the  men  and  agitated  the 
minds  of  their  consorts  I  Yet,  while  soaring  above  these 
rules  with  easy  grace,  the  First  Consul  imposed  them  rigidly 
on  the  crowd  of  eager  courtiers.  On  these  burning  ques- 
tions he  generally  took  the  advice  of  M.  de  Remusat,  whose 
tact  and  acquaintance  with  Court  customs  were  now  of 
much  service,  while  the  sprightly  wit  of  his  young  wife 
attracted  Josephine,  as  it  has  all  readers  of  her  piquant 
but  rather  spiteful  memoirs.  In  her  pages  we  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  life  of  that  singular  Court ;'  the  attempts 
at  aping  the  inimitable  manners  of  the  ancien  rSgime;  the 
pompous  nullity  of  the  second  and  third  Consuls;  the 
tawdry  magnificence  of  the  costumes ;  the  studied  avoid- 
ance of  any  word  that  implied  even  a  modicum  of  learn- 
ing or  a  distant  acquaintance  with  politics ;  the  nervous 
pre-occupation  about  Napoleon's  moods  and  whims ;  the 
graceful  manners  of  Josephine  that  rarely  failed  to  charm 

i**The  Two  Duchesses,'*  edited  by  Vere  Foster,  p.  172.  Lord 
Malmesbury  ('*  Diaries,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  257)  is  less  favourable  :  **  When  B. 
is  out  of  his  ceremonious  habits,  his  language  is  often  coarse  and  vulgar." 


XIII  THE  CONSULATE  FOR  LIFE  d06 

away  his  humours,  except  when  she  herself  had  been  out- 
rageously slighted  for  some  passing  favourite ;  above  all, 
the  leaden  dulness  of  conversation,  which  drew  from 
Chaptal  the  confession  that  life  there  was  the  life  of  a 
galley  slave.  And  if  we  seek  for  the  hidden  reason  why 
a  ruler  eminently  endowed  with  mental  force  and  fresh- 
ness should  have  endured  so  laboured  a  masquerade,  we 
find  it  in  his  strikingly  frank  confession  to  Madame  de 
Remusat :  It  is  fortunate  that  the  French  are  to  be  ruled 
thrtmgh  their  vanity. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  PEACE  OF  AHIENS 

The  previous  chapter  dealt  in  the  main  with  the 
internal  affairs  of  France  and  the  completion  of  Napoleon's 
power:  it  touched  on  foreign  affairs  only  so  far  as  to 
exhibit  the  close  connection  between  the  First  Consul's 
diplomatic  victory  over  England  and  his  triumph  over 
the  republican  constitution  in  his  adopted  country.  But 
it  is  time  now  to  review  the  course  of  the  negotiations  which 
led  up  to  the  Treaty  of  Amiens. 

In  order  to  realize  the  advantages  which  France  then 
had  over  England,  it  will  be  well  briefly  to  review  the 
condition  of  our  land  at  that  time.  Our  population  was 
far  smaller  than  that  of  the  French  Republic.  France, 
with  her  recent  acquisitions  in  Belgium,  the  Rhineland, 
Savoy,  Nice,  and  Piedmont,  numbered  nearly  40,000,000 
inhabitants :  but  the  census  returns  of  Great  Britain  for 
1801  showed  only  a  total  of  10,942,000  souls,  while  the 
numbers  for  Ireland,  arguing  from  the  rather  untrust- 
worthy return  of  1813,  may  be  reckoned  at  about  six 
and  a  half  millions.  The  prodigious  growth  of  the 
English-speaking  people  had  not  as  yet  fully  com- 
menced either  in  the  motherland,  the  United  States,  or 
in  the  small  and  struggling  settlements  of  Canada  and 
Australia.  Its  future  expansion  was  to  be  assured  by 
industrial  and  social  causes,  and  by  the  events  con- 
sidered in  this  and  in  subsequent  chapters.  It  was  a 
small  people  that  had  for  several  months  faced  with 
undaunted  front  the  gigantic  power  of  Bonaparte  and 
that  of  the  Armed  Neutrals. 

This  population  of  less  than  18,000,000  souls,  of  which 
nearly  one-third  openly  resented  the  Act  of  Union 
recently  imposed  on  Ireland,  was  burdened  by  a  National 
Debt  which  amounted  to  £537,000,000,  and  entailed  a 

306 


CHAP.  XIV  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS  807 

yearly  charge  of  more  than  £20,000,000  sterling.  In 
the  years  of  war  with  revolutionary  France  the  annual 
expenditure  had  risen  from  £19,869,000  (for  1792)  to 
the  total  of  £61,329,000,  which  necessitated  an  income 
tax  of  10  per  cent,  on  all  incomes  of  £200  and  upwards. 
Yet,  despite  party  feuds,  the  nation  was  never  stronger, 
and  its  fleets  had  never  won  more  brilliant  and  solid 
triumphs.  The  chief  naval  historian  of  France  admits 
that  we  had  captured  no  fewer  than  50  ships  of  the  line, 
and  had  lost  to  our  enemies  only  five,  thereby  raising  the 
strength  of  our  fighting  line  to  189,  while  that  of  France 
had  sunk  to  47.^  The  prowess  of  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley 
was  also  beginning  to  revive  in  India  the  ancient  lustre 
of  the  British  arms;  but  the  events  of  1802-3  were  to 
show  that  our  industrial  enterprise,  and  the  exploits  of 
our  sailors  and  soldiers,  were  by  themselves  of  little  avail 
when  matched  in  a  diplomatic  contest  against  the  vast 
resources  of  France  and  the  embodied  might  of  a 
Napoleon. 

Men  and  institutions  were  everywhere  receiving  the 
imprint  of  his  will.  France  was  as  wax  under  his  genius. 
The  sovereigns  of  Spain,  Italy,  and  Germany  obeyed  his 
fiat  Even  the  stubborn  Dutch  bent  before  him.  On 
the  plea  of  defeating  Orange  intrigues,  he  imposed  a  new 
constitution  on  the  Batavian  Republic  whose  indepen- 
dence he  had  agreed  to  respect.  Its  Directory  was  now 
replaced  by  a  Regency  which  relieved  the  deputies  of 
the  people  of  all  responsibility.  A  plebiscite  showed 
62,000  votes  against,  and  16,000  for,  the  new  regime  ;  but, 
as  350,000  had  not  voted,  their  silence  was  taken  for 
consent,  and  Bonaparte's  will  became  law  (September, 
1801). 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  appreciate  the  position  of 
France  and  Great  Britain.  Before  the  signature  of  the 
preliminaries  of  peace  at  London  on  October  1st,  1801, 
our  Government  had  given  up  its  claims  to  the  Cape, 
Malta,  Tobago,  Martinique,  Essequibo,  Demerara,  Ber- 
bice,  and  CuraQoa,  retaining  of  its  conquests  only  Trini- 
dad and  Ceylon. 

A  belated  attempt  had,  indeed,  been  made  to  retain 

1  Jurlen  de  la  Oravi^re,  **Gaerres  Maiitimes,'^  vol.  11.,  chap.  ylL 


a06  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chjlp. 

Tobago.  The  Premier  and  the  Foreign  Secretary,  Lord 
Hawkesbury,  were  led  by  the  French  political  agent  in 
London,  M.  Otto,  to  believe  that,  in  the  ensuing  negotia- 
tions at  Amiens,  every  facility  would  be  given  by  the 
French  Government  towards  its  retrocession  to  us,  and 
tiiat  this  act  would  be  regarded  as  the  means  of  indemni- 
fying Great  Britain  for  the  heavy  expense  of  supporting 
many  thousands  of  French  and  Dutch  prisoners.  The 
Cabinet,  relying  on  this  promise  as  binding  between  hon- 
ourable men,  thereupon  endeavoured  to  obtain  the  assent 
of  George  III.  to  the  preliminaries  in  their  ultimate  form, 
and  only  the  prospect  of  regaining  Tobago  by  this  com- 
promise induced  the  King  to  give  it.  When  it  was  too 
late.  King  and  Ministers  realized  their  mistake  in  relying 
on  verbal  promises  and  in  failing  to  procure  a  written 
statement.^ 

The  abandonment  by  Ministers  of  their  former  claim 
to  Malta  is  equally  strange.  Nelson,  though  he  held 
Malta  to  be  useless  as  a  base  for  the  British  fleet  watching 
Toulon,  made  the  memorable  statement :  ^^  I  consider 
Malta  as  a  most  important  outwork  to  India."  But  a 
despatch  from  St.  Petersburg,  stating  that  the  new  Czar 
had  concluded  a  formal  treaty  of  alliance  with  the  Order 
of  St.  John  settled  in  Russia,  may  have  convinced  Adding- 
ton  and  his  colleagues  that  it  would  be  better  to  forego  sul 
claim  to  Malta  in  order  to  cement  the  newly  won  friend- 
ship of  Russia.  Whatever  may  have  been  their  motive, 
British  Ministers  consented  to  cede  the  island  to  the 
Knights  of  St.  John,  under  the  protection  of  some  third 
Power. 

The  preliminaries  of  peace  were  further  remarkable  for 
three  strange  omissions.  They  did  not  provide  for  the 
renewal  of  previous  treaties  of  peace  between  the  late 
combatants.  War  is  held  to  break  all  previous  treaties  ; 
and  by  failing  to  require  the  renewal  of  the  treaties  of 
1713, 1763,  and  1783,  it  was  now  open  to  Spain  and  France 
to  cement,  albeit  in  a  new  form,  that  Family  Compact 
which  it  had  long  been  the  aim  of  British  diplomacy  to 

^  These  facts  were  fully  acknowledged  later  by  Otto :  see  his  despatch 
of  January  6th,  1802,  to  Talleyrand,  published  by  Du  Casse  in  his  '*  N^go- 
ciatlons  relatives  au  Traits  d' Amiens,**  vol.  iii. 


xir  THE  PEACE  OF  ABilENS  800 

dissolve  :  the  failure  to  renew  those  earlier  treaties  ren- 
dered it  possible  for  the  Court  of  Madrid  to  alienate  any 
of  its  colonies  to  France,  as  at  that  very  time  was  being 
arranged  with  respect  to  Louisiana. 

The  second  omission  was  equally  remarkable.  No 
mention  was  made  of  any  renewal  of  commercial  inter- 
course between  England  and  France.  Doubtless  a  com- 
plete settlement  of  this  question  would  have  been  difficult. 
British  merchants  would  have  looked  for  a  renewal  of  that 
enlightened  treaty  of  commerce  of  1786-7,  which  had 
aroused  the  bitter  opposition  of  French  manufacturers. 
But  the  question  might  have  been  broached  at  London, 
and  its  omission  from  the  preliminaries  served  as  a  reason 
for  shelving  it  in  the  definitive  treaty  —  a  piece  of  f oUy 
which  at  once  provoked  the  severest  censure  from  British 
manufacturers,  who  thereby  lost  the  markets  of  France 
and  her  subject  States,  Holland,  Spain,  Switzerland, 
Genoa,  and  Etruria. 

And,  fmally,  the  terms  of  peace  provided  no  compensa- 
tion either  for  the  French  royal  House  or  for  the  dis- 
possessed House  of  Orange.  Here  again,  it  would  have 
been  very  difficult  to  find  a  recompense  such  as  the  Bour- 
bons could  with  dignity  have  accepted ;  and  the  sug- 
festion  made  by  one  of  the  royalist  exiles  to  Lord 
[awkesbury,  that  Great  Britain  should  seize  Crete  and 
hand  it  over  to  them,  will  show  how  desperate  was  their 
case.^  Nevertheless  some  effort  should  have  been  made 
by  a  Government  which  had  so  often  proclaimed  its  cham- 
pionship of  the  legitimist  cause.  Still  more  glaring  was 
the  omission  of  any  stipulation  for  an  indemnity  for  the 
House  of  Orange,  now  exiled  from  the  Batavian  Kepublic. 
That  claim,  though  urged  at  the  outset,  found  no  place  in 
the  preliminaries ;  and  the  mingled  surprise  and  contempt 
felt  in  the  salons  of  Paris  at  the  conduct  of  the  British 
Government  is  shown  in  a  semi-official  report  sent  thence 
by  one  of  its  secret  agents  : 

**  I  cannot  get  it  into  ray  head  that  the  British  Ministry  has  acted 
in  good  faith  in  sufoscribinj^  to  preliminaries  of  peace,  which,  con- 
sidering the  respective  positions  oi  the  parties,  would  be  harmful  to 

1  *'  F.  O.,''  France,  No.  69.     The  memoir  is  dated  October  10th,  1801. 


310  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

the  English  people.  .  .  .  People  are  persuaded  in  France  that  the 
moderation  oi  Eugland  is  only  a  snare  put  in  Bonaparte's  way,  and  it 
is  mainly  in  order  to  dispel  it  that  our  journals  nave  reoeiyed  the 
order  to  make  much  of  the  advantages  which  must  accrue  to  England 
from  the  conquests  retained  by  her:  but  the  journalists  have  con- 
vinced nobody,  and  it  is  said  openly  that  if  our  European  conquests 
are  consolidated  by  a  general  peace,  France  will,  within  ten  years, 
subjugate  all  Europe,  Great  Britain  included,  despite  all  her  vast 
dominions  in  Lidia.  Only  within  the  last  few  days  nave  people  here 
believed  in  the  sincerity  of  the  English  preliminaries  of  peace,  and 
they  say  everywhere  that,  after  having  gloriously  sailed  past  the  rocks 
that  Bonaparte's  cunning  had  placed  in  its  track,  the  Bntish  Ministry 
has  completely  foundered  at  the  mouth  of  liie  harbour.  People 
blame  the  whole  structure  of  the  peace  as  betraying  marks  of  feeble- 
ness in  all  that  concerns  the  dignity  and  the  interests  of  the  King ; 
.  .  .  and  we  cannot  excuse  its  neglect  of  the  royalists,  whose  interests 
are  entirely  set  aside  in  the  preliminaries.  Men  are  especially  aston- 
ished at  England's  retrocession  of  Martinique  without  a  single  stipu- 
lation for  the  colonists  there,  who  are  at  the  mercy  of  a  government 
as  rapacious  as  it  is  fickle.  All  the  owners  of  colonial  property  are 
very  uneasy,  and  do  not  hide  their  annoyance  against  JSngland  on 
this  score."  ^ 


This  interesting  report  gives  a  glimpse  into  the  real 
thought  of  Paris  such  as  is  rarely  {forded  by  the  tamed 
or  venal  Press.  As  Bonaparte's  spies  enabled  him  to  feel 
every  throb  of  the  French  pulse,  he  must  at  once  have 
seen  how  great  was  the  prestige  which  he  gained  by  these 
first  diplomatic  successes,  and  how  precarious  was  the 
foothold  of  the  English  Ministers  on  the  slippery  grade  of 
concession  to  which  they  had  been  lured.  Addington 
surely  should  have  remembered  that  only  the  strong  man 
can  with  safety  recede  at  the  outset,  and  that  an  act  of 
concession  which,  coming  from  a  master  mind,  is  inter- 
preted as  one  of  noble  magnanimity,  will  be  scornfully 
snatched  from  a  nerveless  hand  as  a  sign  of  timorous  com- 
plaisance. But  the  public  statements  and  the  secret 
avowals  of  our  leaders  show  that  they  wished  "to  try 
the  experiment  of  peace,''  now  that  France  had  returned 
to  ordinary  political  conditions  and  Jacobinism  was  curbed 
by  Bonaparte.  "  Perhaps,"  wrote  Castlereagh,  "  France, 
satisfied  with  her  recent  acquisitions,  will  find  her  interest 
in  that  system  of  internal  improvement  which  is  neces- 

1  "  F.  0.,"  France,  No.  69. 


xiY  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS  811 

• 

sarily  connected  with  peace."  ^  There  is  no  reason  for 
doubting  the  sincerity  of  this  statement.  Our  policy  was 
distinctly  and  continuously  complaisant :  France  regained 
her  colonies  :  she  was  not  required  to  withdraw  from 
Switzerland  and  Holland.  Who  could  expect,  from  what 
was  then  known  of  Bonaparte's  character,  that  a  peace  so 
fraught  with  glory  and  profit  would  not  satisfy  French 
honour  and  his  own  ambition  ? 

Peace,  then,  was  an  "  experiment."  The  British  Govern- 
ment wished  to  see  whether  France  would  turn  from  revo- 
lution and  war  to  agriculture  and  commerce,  whether  her 
young  ruler  would  be  satisfied  with  a  position  of  grandeur 
and  solid  power  such  as  Louis  XIV.  had  rarely  enjoyed. 
Alas  I  the  failure  of  the  experiment  was  patent  to  all  save 
the  blandest  optimists  long  before  the  Preliminaries  of 
London  took  form  in  the  definitive  Treaty  of  Amiens. 
Bonaparte's  aim  now  was  to  keep  our  Government  strictly 
to  the  provisional  terms  of  peace  which  it  had  imprudently 
signed.  Even  before  the  negotiations  were  opened  at 
Amiens,  he   ordered   Joseph  Bonaparte  to  listen  to  no 

Eroposal  concerning  the  King  of  Sardinia  and  the  ex- 
tadholder  of  Holland,  and  asserted  that  the  ^^  internal 
affairs  of  the  Batavian  Republic,  of  Germany,  of  Helvetia, 
and  of  the  Italian  Republics "  were  "  absolutely  alien  to 
the  discussions  with  England."  This  implied  that  Eng- 
land was  to  be  shut  out  from  Continental  politics,  and 
that  France  was  to  regulate  the  affairs  of  Central  and 
Southern  Europe.  This  observance  of  the  letter  was, 
however,  less  rigid  where  French  colonial  and  maritime 
interests  were  at  stake.  Dextrous  feelers  were  put  forth 
seawards,  and  it  was  only  when  these  were  repidsed  that 
the  French  negotiators  encased  themselves  in  their  pre- 
liminaries. 

The  task  of  reducing  those  articles  to  a  definitive  treaty 
devolved,  on  the  British  side,  on  the  Marquis  Cornwallis, 
a  gouty,  world-weary  old  soldier,  chiefly  remembered  for 
the  surrender  which  ended  the  American  War.  Never- 
theless, he  had  everywhere  won  respect  for  his  personal 
probity  in  the  administration  of  Indian  affairs,  and  there 

1  Castlereagh,  **  Letters  and  Despatches,^'  Second  Series,  vol.  i.,  p.  62, 
and  the  speeches  of  Ministers  on  November  3rd,  1801. 


312  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

must  also  have  been  some  convincing  qualities  in  a  per- 
sonality which  drew  from  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena  the 
remark  :  ^^  I  do  not  believe  that  Comwallis  was  a  man  of 
first-rate  abilities:  but  he  had  talent,  great  probity,  sin- 
cerity, and  never  broke  his  word.  .  .  .He  was  a  man  of 
honour — a  true  Englishman." 

Against  Lord  Cornwallis,  and  his  far  abler  secretary, 
Mr.  Merry,  were  pitted  Joseph  Bonaparte  and  his  secreta- 
ries. The  abilities  of  the  eldest  of  the  Bonapartes  have 
been  much  underrated.  Though  he  lacked  the  masterful 
force  and  wide  powers  of  his  second  brother,  yet  at 
Luneville  Joseph  proved  himself  to  be  an  able  diplo- 
matist, and  later  on  in  his  tenure  of  power  at  Naples 
and  Madrid  he  displayed  no  small  administrative  gifts. 
Moreover,  his  tact  and  kindliness  kindled  in  all  who 
knew  him  a  warmth  of  friendship  such  as  Napoleon's 
sterner  qualities  rarely  inspired.  The  one  was  loved  as 
a  man  :  for  the  other,  even  his  earlier  acquaintances 
felt  admiration  and  devotion,  but  always  mingled  with 
a  certain  fear  of  the  demigod  that  would  at  times  blaze 
forth.  This  was  the  dread  personality  that  urged  Talley- 
rand and  Joseph  Bonaparte  to  their  utmost  endeavours 
and  steeled  them  against  any  untoward  complaisance  at 
Amiens. 

The  selection  of  so  honourable  a  man  as  Comwallis 
afforded  no  slight  guarantee  for  the  sincerity  of  our 
Government,  and  its  sincerity  will  stand  the  test  of  a 
perusal  of  its  despatches.  Having  examined  all  those 
that  deal  with  these  negotiations,  the  present  writer  can 
affirm  that  the  official  instructions  were  in  no  respect 
modified  by  the  secret  injunctions :  these  referred  merely 
to  such  delicate  and  personal  topics  as  the  evacuation  of 
Hanover  by  Prussian  troops  and  the  indemnities  to  be 
sought  for  the  House  of  Orange  and  the  House  of  Savoy. 
The  circumstances  of  these  two  dispossessed  dynasties 
were  explained  so  as  to  show  that  the  former  Dutch 
Stadholder  had  a  very  strong  claim  on  us,  as  well  as  on 
France  and  the  Batavian  Republic  ;  while  the  champion- 
ship of  the  House  of  Savoy  by  the  Czar  i*endered  the 
claims  of  that  ancient  family  on  the  intervention  of 
George  III.  less  direct  and  personal  than  those  of  the 


xiT  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS  313 

Prince  of  Orange.  Indeed,  England  would  have  insisted 
on  the  insertion  of  a  clause  to  this  effect  in  the  prelimi- 
naries, had  not  other  arrangements  been  on  foot  at  Berlin 
which  promised  to  yield  due  compensation  to  this  unfor- 
tunate prince.  Doubtless  the  motives  of  the  British 
Ministers  were  good,  but  their  failure  to  insert  such  a 
clause  fatally  prejudiced  their  case  all  through  the  negoti- 
ations at  Amiens. 

The  British  official  declaration  respecting  Malta  was 
clear  and  practical.  The  island  was  to  be  restored  to 
the  Knights  of  the  Order  of  St.  John  and  placed  under 
the  protection  of  a  third  Power  other  than  France  and 
England.  But  the  reconstitution  of  the  Order  was  no 
less  difficult  than  the  choice  of  a  strong  and  disinterested 
protecting  Power.  Lord  Hawkesbury  proposed  that  Russia 
be  the  guaranteeing  Power.  No  proposal  could  have  been 
more  reasonable.  The  claims  of  the  Czar  to  the  protec- 
torate of  the  Order  had  been  so  recently  asserted  by  a 
treaty  with  the  knights  that  no  other  conclusion  seemed 
feasible.  And,  in  order  to  assuage  the  grievances  of  the 
islanders  and  strengthen  the  rule  of  the  knights,  the 
British  Ministry  desired  that  the  natives  of  Malta  should 
gain  a  foothold  in  the  new  constitution.  The  lack  of 
civil  and  political  rights  had  contributed  so  materially  to 
the  overthrow  of  the  Order  that  no  reconstruction  of  that 
shattered  body  could  be  deemed  intelligent,  or  even 
honest,  which  did  not  cement  its  interests  with  those  of 
the  native  Maltese.  The  First  Consul,  however,  at  once 
demurred  to  both  these  proposals.  In  the  course  of  a 
long  interview  with  Cornwallis  at  Paris,^  he  adverted  to 
the  danger  of  bringing  Russia's  maritime  pressure  to 
bear  on  Mediterranean  questions,  especially  as  her  sover- 
eigns ^^  had  of  late  shown  themselves  to  be  such  unsteady 
politicians."  This  of  course  referred  to  the  English  pro- 
clivities of  Alexander  I.,  and  it  is  clear  that  Bonaparte's 


*  Cornwallis,  **  Correspondence/'  vol.  iii.,  despatch  of  December  8rd, 
1801.  The  feelings  of  the  native  Maltese  were  strongly  for  annexation  to 
Britain,  and  against  the  return  of  the  Order  at  idl.  They  sent  a  deputa- 
tion to  London  (February,  1802),  which  was  d^abbily  treated  by  our 
Government  so  as  to  avoid  offending  Bonaparte.  (See  "  Correspondence 
of  W,  A.  Miles,"  vol.  ii.,  pp.  32S-829,  who  drew  up  their  memorial.) 


8U  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

annoyance  with  Alexander  waa  the  first  unsettling  influ- 
ence which  prevented  the  solution  of  the  Maltese  question. 
The  First  Consul  also  admitted  to  Cornwallis  that  the 
King  of  Naples,  despite  his  ancient  claims  of  suzerainty 
over  Malta,  could  not  be  considered  a  satisfactory  guaran- 
tor,  as  between  two  Great  Powers  ;  and  he  then  proposed 
that  the  tangle  should  be  cut  by  blowing  up  the  fortifica- 
tions of  Valetta. 

The  mere  suggestion  of  such  an  act  affords  eloquent 
proof  of  the  difiiculties  besetting  the  whole  question.  To 
destroy  works  of  vast  extent,  which  were  the  bulwark 
of  Christendom  against  the  Barbary  pirates,  would  prac- 
tically have  involved  the  handing  over  of  Valetta  to 
those  pests  of  the  Mediterranean  ;  and  from  Malta  as 
a  new  base  of  operations  they  could  have  spread  devas- 
tation along  the  coasts  of  Sicily  and  Italy.  This  was 
the  objection  which  Cornwallis  at  once  offered  to  an 
otherwise  specious  proposal :  he  had  recently  received 
papers  from  Major-General  Pigot  at  Malta,  in  which  the 
same  solution  of  the  question  was  examined  in  detail. 
The  British  officer  pointed  out  that  the  complete  dis- 
mantling of  the  fortifications  would  expose  the  island, 
and  therefore  the  coasts  of  Italy,  to  the  rovers ;  yet  he 
suggested  a  partial  demolition,  which  seems  to  prove 
that  the  British  officers  in  command  at  Malta  did  not 
contemplate  the  retention  of  the  island  and  the  infrac- 
tion of  the  peace. 

Our  Government,  however,  disapproved  of  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  fortifications  of  Valetta  as  wounding  the  sus- 
ceptibilities of  the  Czar,  and  as  in  no  wise  rendering 
impossible  the  seizure  of  the  island  and  the  reconstruction 
of  those  works  by  some  future  invader.  In  fact,  as  the 
British  Ministry  now  aimed  above  all  at  maintaining  good 
relations  with  the  Czar,  Bonaparte's  proposal  could  only  be 
regarded  as  an  ingenious  device  for  sundering  the  Anglo- 
Russian  understanding.  The  French  Minister  at  St. 
Petersburg  was  doing  his  utmost  to  prevent  the  rapproche- 
ment of  the  Czar  to  the  Court  of  St.  James,  and  was  striv- 
ing to  revive  the  moribund  league  of  the  Armed  Neutrals. 
That  last  offer  had  "  been  rejected  in  the  most  peremptory 
manner  and  in  terms  almost  bordering  upon  derision." 


I? 

I  li 


J  =1 


JLIY  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS  315 

Still  there  was  reason  to  believe  that  the  former  Anglo- 
Russian  disputes  about  Malta  might  be  so  far  renewed  as 
to  bring  Bonaparte  and  Alexander  to  an  understanding. 
The  sentimental  Liberalism  of  the  young  Czar  predisposed 
him  towards  a  French  alliance,  and  his  whole  disposition 
inclined  him  towards  the  brilliant  opportunism  of  Paris 
rather  than  the  frigid  legitimacy  of  the  Court  of  St.  James. 
The  Maltese  afEair  and  the  possibility  of  reopening  the 
Eastern  Question  were  the  two  sources  of  hope  to  the  pro- 
moters of  a  Franco-Russian  alliance  ;  for  both  these  ques- 
tions appealed  to  the  chivalrous  love  of  adventure  and  to 
the  calculating  ambition  so  curiously  blent  in  Alexander's 
nature.  Such,  then,  was  the  motive  which  doubtless 
prompted  Bonaparte's  proposal  concerning  Valetta;  such 
also  were  the  reasons  which  certainly  dictated  its  rejection 
by  Great  Britain. 

In  his  interview  with  the  First  Consul  at  Paris,  and  in 
the  suBsequent  negotiations  at  Amiens  with  Joseph  Bona- 
parte, the  question  of  Tobago  and  England's  money  claim 
for  the  support  of  French  prisoners  was  found  to  be  no 
less  thorny  than  that  of  Malta.  The  Bonapartes  firmly 
rejected  the  proposal  for  the  retention  of  Tobago  by  Eng- 
land in  lieu  of  her  pecuniary  demand.  A  Government 
which  neglected  to  procure  the  insertion  of  its  claim  to 
Tobago  among  the  Preliminaries  of  London  could  cer- 
tainly not  hope  to  regain  that  island  in  exchange  for  a 
concession  to  France  that  was  in  any  degree  disputable. 
But  the  two  Bonapartes  and  Talleyrand  now  took  their 
stand  solely  on  the  preliminaries,  and  politely  waved  on 
one  side  the  earlier  promises  of  M.  Otto  as  unauthorized 
and  invalid.  They  also  closely  scrutinized  the  British 
claim  to  an  indemnity  for  the  support  of  French  prisoners. 
Though  theoretically  correct,  it  was  open  to  an  objection, 
which  was  urged  by  Bonaparte  and  Talleyrand  with  suave 
yet  incisive  irony.  They  suggested  that  the  claim  must 
be  considered  in  relation  to  a  counter-claim,  soon  to  be 
sent  from  Paris,  for  the  maintenance  of  all  prisoners  taken 
by  the  French  from  the  various  forces  sudsidized  by  Great 
Britain,  a  charge  which  "would  probably  not  leave  a 
balance  so  much  in  favour  of  His  [Britannic]  Majesty  as 
His  Government  may  have  looked  forward  to."     This 


816  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

retort  was  not  so  terrible  as  it  appeared ;  for  most  of  the 
papers  necessary  for  the  making  up  of  the  French  counter- 
claim had  been  lost  or  destroyed  during  the  Revolution. 
Yet  the  threat  told  with  full  effect  on  Cornwallis,  who 
thereafter  referred  to  the  British  claim  as  a  ^^  hopeless 
debt."^  The  officials  of  Downing  Street  drew  a  distinc- 
tion between  prisoners  from  armies  merely  subsidized  by 
us  and  those  teken  from  foreign  forces  actually  under  our 
control;  but  it  is  clear  that  Cornwallis  ceased  to  press 
the  claim.  In  fact,  the  British  case  was  mismanaged 
from  beginning  to  end :  the  accounts  for  the  maintenance 
of  French  and  Dutch  prisoners  were,  in  the  first  instance, 
wrongly  drawn  up;  and  there  seems  to  have  been  little 
or  no  notion  of  the  seriousness  of  the  counter-claim,  which 
came  with  all  the  effect  of  a  volley  from  a  masked  battery, 
destructive  alike  to  our  diplomatic  reputation  and  to  our 
hope  of  retaining  Tobaffo. 

It  is  impossible  to  refer  here  to  all  the  topics  discussed 
at  Amiens.  The  determination  of  the  French  Govern- 
ment to  adopt  a  forward  colonial  and  oceanic  policy  is 
clearly  seen  in  its  proposals  made  at  the  close  of  the  year 
1801.  They  were :  (1)  the  abolition  of  salutes  to  the 
British  flag  on  the  high  seas ;  (2)  an  ah%olute  ownership 
of  the  eastern  and  western  coasts  of  Newfoundland  in 
return  for  a  proposed  cession  of  the  isles  of  St.  Pierre 
and  Miquelon  to  us — which  would  have  practically  ceded 
to  France  in  full  BovereigrUy  all  the  best  fishing  coasts  of 
that  land,  with  every  prospect  of  settling  the  interior,  in 
exchange  for  two  islets  devastated  by  war  and  then  in 
British  hands;  (3)  the  right  of  the  French  to  a  share 
in  the  whale  fishery  in  those  seas ;  (4)  the  establishment 
of  a  French  fishing  station  in  the  Falkland  Isles;  and 
(5)  the  extension  of  the  French  districts  around  the 
towns  of  Yanaon  and  Mahe  in  India.^  To  all  these 
demands  Lord  Cornwallis  opposed  an  unbending  oppo- 
sition. Weak  as  our  policy  had  been  on  other  affairs, 
it  was  firm  as  a  rock  on  all  maritime  and  Indian  ques- 
tions.    In  fact,  the  events  to  be  described  in  the  next 

1  Comwallifi's  despatches  of  January  10th  and  23rd,  1802. 
>  Project  of  a  treaty  forwarded  by  Cornwallis  to  London  on  December 
27th,  1801,  in  the  Public  Record  Office,  No.  616. 


XIV  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS  317 

chapter,  which  led  to  the  consolidation  of  British  power 
in  Hindostan,  would  in  all  probability  never  have  oc- 
curred but  for  the  apprehensions  excited  by  these  French 
demands  ;  and  our  masterful  proconsul  in  Bengal,  the 
Marquis  Wellesley,  could  not  have  pursued  his  daring 
and  expensive  schemes  of  conquest,  annexation,  and 
forced  alliances,  had  not  the  schemes  of  the  First  Consul 
played  into  the  hands  of  the  soldiers  at  Calcutta  and 
weakened  the  protests  of  the  dividend  hunters  of  Lead- 
enhall  Street. 

The  persistence  of  French  demands  for  an  increase 
of  influence  in  Newfoundland  and  the  West  and  East 
Indies,  the  vastness  of  her  expedition  to  Saint  Domingo 
and  the  thinly-veiled  designs  of  her  Australian  expem- 
tion  (which  we  shall  notice  in  the  next  chapter),  all 
served  to  awaken  the  suspicions  of  the  British  Govern- 
ment. The  negotiations  consequently  progressed  but 
slowly.  From  tne  outset  they  were  clogged  by  the  sus- 
picion of  bad  faith.  Spain  and  Holland,  smarting  under 
the  conditions  of  a  peace  which  gave  to  France  all  the 
glory  and  to  her  allies  all  the  loss,  delayed  sending  their 
respective  envoys  to  the  conferences  at  Amiens,  and  finally 
avowed  their  determination  to  resist  the  surrender  of  Trini- 
dad and  Ceylon.  In  fact,  pressure  had  to  be  exerted  from 
Paris  and  London  before  they  yielded  to  the  inevitable. 
This  diflSculty  was  only  one  of  several:  there  then  re- 
mained the  questions  whether  Portugal  and  Turkey  should 
be  admitted  to  share  in  the  treaty,  as  England  demanded ; 
or  whether  they  should  sign  a  separate  peace  with  France. 
The  First  Consul  strenuously  insisted  on  the  exclusion  of 
those  States,  though  their  interests  were  vitally  affected 
by  the  present  negotiations.  He  saw  that  a  separate  treaty 
with  the  Sublime  Porte  would  enable  him,  not  only  to  ex- 
tract valuable  trading  concessions  in  the  Black  Sea  trade, 
but  also  to  cement  a  good  understanding  with  Russia  on 
the  Eastern  Question,  which  was  now  being  adroitly  re- 
opened by  French  diplomacy.  Against  the  exclusion  of 
Turkey  from  the  negotiations  at  Amiens,  Great  Britain 
firmly  but  vainly  protested.  In  fact,  Talleyrand  had 
bound  the  Porte  to  a  separate  agreement  which  promised 
everything  for  France  and  nothing  for  Turkey,  and  seemed 


318  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

to  doom  the  Sublime  Porte  to  certain  humiliation  and 
probable  partition. ^ 

Then  there  were  the  vexed  questions  of  the  indemnities 
claimed  by  George  III.  for  the  Houses  of  Orange  and  of 
Savoy.  In  his  interview  with  Cornwallis,  Bonaparte 
had  effusively  promised  to  do  his  utmost  for  the  ex-Stad- 
holder,  though  he  refused  to  consider  the  case  of  the  King 
of  Sardinia,  who,  he  averred,  had  offended  him  by  appeal- 
ing to  the  Czar.  The  territorial  interests  of  France  in 
Italy  doubtless  offered  a  more  potent  argument  to  the 
First  Consul :  after  practically  annexing  Piedmont  and 
dominating  the  peninsula,  he  could  ill  brook  the  presence 
on  the  mainland  of  a  king  whom  he  had  already  sacrificed 
to  his  astute  and  masterful  policy.  The  case  of  the 
Prince  of  Orange  was  different.  He  was  a  victim  to  the 
triumph  of  French  and  democratic  influence  in  the  Dutch 
Netherlands.  George  III.  felt  a  deep  interest  in  this 
unfortunate  prince  and  made  a  strong  appeal  to  the  better 
instincts  of  Bonaparte  on  his  behalf.  Indeed,  it  is  prob- 
able that  England  had  acquiesced  in  the  consolidation  of 
French  influence  at  the  Hague,  in  the  hope  that  her  com- 
plaisance would  lead  the  First  Consul  to  assure  him  some 
position  worthy  of  so  ancient  a  House.  But  though 
Cornwallis  pressed  the  Batavian  Republic  on  behalf  of  its 
exiled  chief,  yet  the  question  was  finally  adjourned  by 
the  XVIIIth  clause  of  the  .definitive  Treaty  of  Amiens  ; 
and  the  scion  of  that  famous  House  had  to  take  his  share 
in  the  forthcoming  scramble  for  the  clerical  domains  of 
Germany.^ 

For  the  still  more  diflScult  cause  of  the  House  of  Savoy 
the  British  Government  made  honest  but  unavailing 
efforts,  firmly  refusing  to  recognize  the  newest  creations 

^  See  the  *^  Paget  Papers,'^  vol.  ii.  France  gained  the  right  of  adniis- 
sion  to  the  Black  Sea  :  the  despatches  of  Mr.  Merry  from  Paris  in  May, 
1802,  show  that  France  and  Russia  were  planning  schemes  of  partition  of 
Turkey.     (**F.  O.,"  France,  No.  62.) 

3  The  despatches  of  March  14th  and  22nd,  1802,  show  how  strong  was 
the  repugnance  of  our  Government  to  this  shabby  treatment  of  the  ^ince 
of  Orange  ;  and  it  is  clear  that  Cornwallis  exceeded  his  instructions 
in  signing  peace  on  those  terms.  (See  Garden,  vol.  vii.,  p.  142.)  By  a 
secret  treaty  with  Prussia  (May,  1802),  France  procured  Fulda  for  the 
House  of  Orange. 


XIV  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS  319 

of  Bonaparte  in  Italy,  namely,  the  Kingdom  of  Etruria 
and  the  Ligurian  Republic,  until  he  indemnified  the 
House  of  Savoy.  Our  recognition  was  withheld  for  the 
reasons  that  prompt  every  bargainer  to  refuse  satisfaction 
to  his  antagonist  until  an  equal  concession  is  accorded. 
This  game  was  played  bv  both  Powers  at  Amiens,  and 
with  little  other  result  than  mutual  exasperation.  Yet 
here,  too,  the  balance  of  gain  naturally  accrued  to  Bona- 
parte ;  for  lie  required  the  British  Ministry  to  recognize 
existing  facts  in  Etruria  and  Liguria,  while  Cornwallis 
had  to  champion  the  cause  of  exiles  and  of  an  order  that 
seemed  for  ever  to  have  vanished.  To  pit  the  non-ex- 
istent against  the  actual  was  a  task  far  above  the  powers 
of  British  statesmanship  ;  yet  that  was  to  be  its  task  for 
the  next  decade,  while  the  forces  of  the  living  present 
were  to  be  wielded  by  its  mighty  antagonist.  Herein 
lay  the  secret  of  British  failures  and  of  Napoleon's  ex- 
traordinary triumphs. 

Leaving,  for  a  space,  the  negotiations  at  Amiens,  we 
turn  to  consider  the  events  which  transpired  at  Lyons  in 
the  early  weeks  of  1802,  events  which  influenced  not  only 
the  future  of  Italy,  but  the  fortunes  of  Bonaparte. 

It  will  be  remembered  that,  after  the  French  victories 
of  Marengo  and  Hohenlinden,  Austria  agreed  to  terms 
of  peace  whereby  the  Cisalpine,  Ligurian,  Helvetic,  and 
Batavian  Republics  were  formally  recognized  by  her, 
though  a  clause  expressly  stipulated  that  they  were  to 
be  independent  of  France.  A  vain  hope  1  They  con- 
tinued to  be  under  French  tutelage,  and  their  strong- 
holds in  the  possession  of  French  troops. 

It  now  remained  to  legalize  French  supremacy  in  the 
Cisalpine  Republic,  which  comprised  the  land  between 
the  Ticino  and  the  Adige,  and  the  Alps  and  the  Rubicon. 
The  new  State  received  a  provisional  form  of  government 
after  Marengo,  a  small  council  being  appointed  to  super- 
vise civil  affairs  at  the  capital,  Milan.  With  it  and  with 
Marescalchi,  the  Cisalpine  envoy  at  Paris,  Bonaparte  had 
concerted  a  constitution,  or  rather  he  had  used  these 
men  as  a  convenient  screen  to  hide  its  purely  personal 
origin.  Having,  for  form's  sake,  consulted  the  men  whom 
he  had  himself  appointed,  he  now  suggested  that  the 


320  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap. 

chief  citizens  of  that  republic  should  confer  with  him 
respecting  their  new  institutions.  His  Minister  at  Milan 
thereupon  proposed  that  they  should  cross  the  Alps  for 
that  purpose,  assembling,  not  at  Paris,  where  their  de- 
pendence on  the  First  Consul's  will  might  provoke  too 
much  comment,  bat  at  Lyons.  To  that  city,  accordingly, 
there  repaired  some  450  of  the  chief  men  of  Northern 
Italy,  who  braved  the  snows  of  a  most  rigorous  December, 
in  the  hope  of  consolidating  the  liberties  of  their  long- 
distracted  country.  And  thus  was  seen  the  strange 
spectacle  of  the  organization  of  Lombardy,  Modena,  and 
the  Legations  being  effected  in  one  provincial  centre  of 
France,  while  at  another  of  her  cities  the  peace  of  Europe 
and  the  fortunes  of  two  colonial  empires  were  likewise  at 
stake.  Such  a  conjunction  of  events  might  well  impress 
the  imagination  of  men,  bending  the  stubborn  will  of  the 
northern  islanders,  and  moulding  the  Italian  notables  to 
complete  complaisance.  And  yet,  such  power  was  there 
in  the  nascent  idea  of  Italian  nationality,  that  Bonaparte's 
proposals,  which,  in  his  absence,  were  skilfully  set  forth 
by  Talleyrand,  met  with  more  than  one  rebuff  from  the 
Consulta  at  Lyons. 

Bitterly  it  opposed  the  declaration  that  the  Roman 
Catholic  religion  was  the  religion  of  the  Cisalpine  Re- 
public and  must  be  maintained  by  a  State  budget.  Only 
the  first  part  of  this  proposal  could  be  carried :  so  keen 
was  the  opposition  to  the  second  part  that,  as  a  preferable 
plan,  property  was  set  apart  for  the  support  of  the 
clergy  ;  and  clerical  discipline  was  subjected  to  the  State, 
on  terms  somewhat  similar  to  those  of  the  French 
Concordat.^ 

Secular  affairs  gave  less  trouble.  The  apparent  suc- 
cess of  the  French  constitution  furnished  a  strong  motive 
for  adopting  one  of  a  similar  character  for  the  Italian 
State ;  and  as  the  proposed  institutions  had  been  ap- 
proved at  Milan,  their  acceptance  by  a  large  and  miscel- 
laneous body  was  a  foregone  conclusion.  Talleyrand  also 
took  the  most  unscrupidous  care  that  the  affair  of  the 
Presidency  should  be  judiciously  settled.  On  December 
31st,  1801,  he  writes  to  Bonaparte  from  Lyons  : 

^  PasoUni,  «'Memorie,"  ad  inU, 


TfiH  PfiACH  Ot  AMIENS  321 

^  The  opinion  of  the  Cisalpines  seems  not  at  all  decided  as  to  the 
choice  to  oe  made:  the^  will  gladly  receive  the  man  whom  ^ou 
nominate:  a  President  m  France  and  a  Vice-President  at  Milan 
would  suit  a  large  number  of  them." 

Four  days  later  he  confidentlj  assures  the  First  Consul : 

"  They  will  do  what  you  want  without  your  needing  even  to  show 
your  desire.  What  they  think  you  desire  will  immediately  become 
xa^v . 

The  ground  having  been  thus  thoroughly  worked, 
Bonaparte  and  Josephine,  accompanied  by  a  brilliant  suite, 
arrived  at  Lyons  on  January  lltn,  and  met  with  an  enthu- 
siastic reception.  Despite  the  intense  cold,  followed  by  a 
sudden  thaw,  a  brilliant  series  of  fetes,  parades,  and  recep- 
tions took  place ;  and  several  battalions  of  the  French 
Army  of  Egypt,  which  had  recently  been  conveyed  home 
on  English  ships,  now  passed  in  review  before  their  chief. 
The  impressionable  Italians  could  not  mistake  the  aim  of 
these  demonstrations ;  and,  after  general  matters  had  been 
arranged  by  the  notables,  the  final  measures  were  relegated 
'  to  a  committee  of  thirty.  The  desirabilitv  of  this  step 
was  obvious,  for  urgent  protests  had  alreaay  been  raised 
in  the  Consulta  against  the  appointment  of  a  foreigner  as 
President  of  the  new  State.  When  a  hubbub  arose  on 
this  burning  topic  — 

<'  Some  officers  of  the  regiments  in  garrison  at  Lyons  appeared  in 
the  hidl  and  imposed  silence  upon  all  parties.  Notwithstanding  this, 
Count  Melzi  was  actually  chosen  President  by  the  majority  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Thirty;  but  he  declined  the  honour,  and  suggested  in  signifi- 
cant terms  that,  to  enable  him  to  render  any  service  to  the  country, 
the  committee  had  better  ^  upon  General  Bonaparte  as  their  Chief 
Magistrate.  This  being  done,  Bonaparte  immediately  appointed 
Count  Melzi  Vice-President."  ^ 

Bonaparte^s  determination  to  fill  this  important  position 
is  clearly  seen  in  his  correspondence.     On  the  ^nd  and 

1  **  Lettres  incites  de  Talleyrand  k  Napolfon  *'  (Paris,  1889). 

*  Mr.  Jackson^s  despatch  of  February  17th,  1802,  from  Paris.  According 
to  Miot  de  Melito  ('*  Mems.,**  ch.  xiy.),  Bonaparte  had  offered  the  post  of 
President  to  his  brother  Joseph,  but  fettered  by  so  many  restrictions  that 
Joseph  declined  the  honour. 


822  THB  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chat. 

4th  of  Pluviose  (January  22nd  and  24th),  he  writes  from 
Lyons: 

"  All  the  principal  affairs  of  the  Consolta  are  settled.  I  eount  on 
beine  back  at  Pans  in  the  coarse  of  the  decade." 

'^  To-morrow  I  shall  review  the  troops  from  Egypt.  On  the  6th  [of 
Pluvidse]  all  the  business  of  the  Consulta  wUl  be  finished,  and  I  shall 
probably  set  out  on  my  journey  on  the  Tth." 

The  next  day,  5th  Pluviose,  sees  the  accomplishment  of 
his  desires : 

**  To-day  I  have  reviewed  the  troops  on  the  Place  Belleoour ;  the 
sun  shone  as  it  does  in  Flor^al.  The  Consulta  has  named  a  commit- 
tee of  thirty  individuals,  which  has  reported  to  it  that,  considering^  the 
domestic  and  foreign  affairs  of  the  Cisalpine,  it  was  indispensable  to 
let  me  discharge  the  first  magistracy,  until  circumstances  permit  and 
I  judge  it  suitable  to  appoint  a  successor." 

These  extracts  prove  that  the  acts  of  the  Consulta  could 
be  planned  beforehand  no  less  precisely  than  the  move- 
ments of  the  soldiery,  and  that  even  so  complex  a  matter 
as  the  voting  of  a  constitution  and  the  choice  of  its  chief 
had  to  fall  in  with  the  arrangements  of  this  methodizing 
genius.  Certainly  civilization  had  progressed  since  the 
weary  years  when  the  French  people  groped  through 
mists  and  waded  in  blood  in  order  to  gain  a  perfect  pol- 
ity: that  precious  boon  was  now  conferred  on  a  neigh- 
bouring people  in  so  sure  a  way  that  the  plans  of  their 
benefactor  could  be  infallibly  fixed  and  his  return  to  Paris 
calculated  to  the  hour. 

The  final  address  uttered  by  Bonaparte  to  the  Italian 
notables  is  remarkable  for  tne  short,  sharp  sentences, 
which  recall  the  tones  of  the  parade  ground.  Passing  re- 
cent events  in  rapid  review,  he  said,  speaking  in  his  mother 
tongue : 

"...  Every  effort  had  been  made  to  dismember  you :  the  protec- 
tion of  France  won  the  day :  you  have  been  recognized  at  Lun^ville. 
One-fifth  larger  than  before,  you  are  now  more  powerful,  more  consoli- 
dated, and  have  wider  hopes.  Composed  of  six  different  nations,  you 
will  be  now  united  under  a  constitution  the  best  possible  for  your  so- 
cial and  material  condition.  .  .  .  The  selections  I  have  made  for  your 
chief  offices  have  been  made  independently  of  all  idea  of  party  or  feel- 
ing of  locality.  As  for  that  of  President,  I  have  found  no  one  among 
you  with  sufficient  claims  on  public  opinion,  sufficiently  free  from  locsS 


HIT  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS  828 

feelings,  and  who  had  rendered  great  enoagh  services  to  his  country, 
to  intrust  it  to  him.  .  .  .  Your  people  has  only  local  feelings :  it  must 
now  rise  to  national  feelings." 

In  accordance  with  this  last  grand  and  prophetic  remark, 
the  name  Italian  was  substituted  for  that  of  Cisalpine  : 
and  thus,  for  the  first  time  since  the  Middle  Ages,  there 
reappeared  on  the  map  of  Europe  that  name,  which  was 
to  evoke  the  sneers  of  diplomatists  and  the  most  exalted 
patriotism  of  the  century.  If  Bonaparte  had  done  naught 
else,  he  would  deserve  immortal  glory  for  training  the 
divided  peoples  of  the  peninsula  for  a  life  of  united 
activity. 

The  new  constitution  was  modelled  on  that  of  France  ; 
but  the  pretence  of  a  democratic  suffrage  was  abandoned. 
The  right  of  voting  was  accorded  to  three  classes,  the  great 

Proprietors,  the  clerics  and  learned  men,  and  the  merchants. 
*hese,  meeting  in  their  several  "Electoral  Colleges,"  voted 
for  the  members  of  the  legislative  bodies ;  a  Tribunal 
was  also  charged  with  the  maintenance  of  the  constitution. 
By  these  means  Bonaparte  endeavoured  to  fetter  the  power 
of  the  reactionaries  no  less  than  the  anti-clerical  fervour 
of  the  Italian  Jacobins.  The  blending  of  the  new  and 
the  old  which  then  began  shows  the  hand  of  the  master- 
builder,  who  neither  sweeps  away  materials  merely  because 
they  are  old,  nor  rejects  the  strength  that  comes  from  im* 
proved  methods  of  construction  :  and,  however  much  we 
may  question  the  disinterestedness  of  his  motives  in  this 
gpreat  enterprise,  there  can  be  but  one  opinion  as  to  the 
skill  of  the  methods  and  the  beneficence  of  the  results  in 
Italy.i 

The  first  step  in  the  process  of  Italian  unification  had 
now  been  taken  at  Lyons.  A  second  soon  followed.  The 
affairs  of  the  Ligurian  Republic  were  in  some  confusion  ; 
and  an  address  came  from  Genoa  begging  that  their  dif- 
ferences might  be  composed  by  the  First  Consul.     The 

1  Roederer  tells  us  (**  (Euvres,^'  vol.  iii.,  p.  428)  that  he  had  drawn  up 
two  plans  of  a  constitution  for  the  Cisalpine ;  the  one  very  short  and 
leaving  much  to  the  President,  Uie  other  precise  and  detailed.  He  told 
Talleyrand  to  advise  Bonaparte  to  adopt  the  former  as  it  was  **  short  and  " 
— he  was  about  to  add  **  dear^^  when  the  diplomatist  cut  him  short  with 
the  words,  "  Tea :  ahort  and  obscure  !  " 


Sa4  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  csjlf. 

spontaneity  of  this  offer  may  well  be  questioned,  seeing 
that  Bonaparte  f  oond  it  desirable,  in  his  letter  of  February 
18th,  1802,  to  assure  the  Ligurian  authorities  that  they 
need  feel  no  disquietude  as  to  the  independence  of  their 
republic.  Bonaparte  undertook  to  alter  their  constitution 
and  nominate  their  Doge. 

That  the  news  of  the  eyents  at  Lyons  excited  the  live- 
liest indignation  in  London  is  evident  from  Hawkesbury's 
despatch  of  February  12th,  1802,  to  Cornwallis : 

<<  The  proceedings  at  Lyons  have  created  the  greatest  alarm  in  this 
country,  and  there  are  many  persons  who  were  pacifically  disposed, 
who  since  this  event  are  desirous  of  renewing  the  war.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  be  surprised  at  this  feeling  when  we  consider  the  inordinate 
ambition,  the  gross  breach  of  faith,  and  the  inclination  to  insult  Eu- 
rope manifested  by  the  First  Consul  on  this  occasion.  The  Govern- 
ment here  are  desirous  of  avoiding  to  take  notice  of  these  proceedings, 
and  are  sincerely  desirous  to  conclude  the  peace,  if  it  can  oe  obtained 
on  terms  consistent  with  our  honour.'* 

Why  the  Government  should  have  lagged  behind  the  far 
surer  instincts  of  English  public  opinion  it  ia  difficult  to 
say.  Hawkesbury's  despatch  of  four  davs  later  supplies 
an  excuse  for  his  contemptible  device  of  pretending^  not 
to  see  this  glaring  violation  of  the  Treaty  of  Luneville. 
Referring  to  the  events  at  Lyons,  he  writes  : 

"  Extravagant  and  unjustifiable  as  they  are  in  themselves,  [they] 
must  have  led  us  to  believe  that  the  First  Consul  would  have  been 
more  anxious  than  ever  to  have  closed  his  account  with  this  country." 

Doubtless  that  was  the  case,  but  only  on  condition  that 
England  remained  passive  while  French  domination  was 
extended  over  all  neighbouring  lands.  If  our  Ministers 
believed  that  Bonaparte  feared  the  displeasure  of  Austria, 
they  were  completely  in  error.  Thanks  to  the  utter  weak- 
ness of  the  European  system,  and  the  rivalry  of  Austria 
and  Prussia,  he  was  now  able  to  concentrate  his  ever-in- 
creasing  power  and  prestige  on  the  negotiations  at  Amiens, 
which  once  more  claim  our  attention. 

Far  from  being  sated  by  the  prestige  gained  at  Lyons, 
he  seemed  to  grow  more  exacting  with  victory.  Moreover, 
he  had  been  cut  to  the  quick  by  some  foolish  articles  of  a 
French  SmigrS  named  Peltier,  in  a  paper  published  at  Lon- 


xiY  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS  326 

don :  instead  of  treating  them  with  the  contempt  they 
deserved,  he  magnified  these  ravings  of  a  disappointed 
exile  into  an  event  of  high  policy,  and  fulminated  against 
the  Government  which  allowed  them.  In  vain  did  Corn- 
wallis  object  that  the  Addington  Cabinet  could  not  ven- 
ture on  the  unpopular  act  of  curbing  freedom  of  the  Press 
in  Great  Britain.  The  First  Consul,  who  had  experienced 
no  such  difficulty  in  France,  persisted  now,  as  a  year  later, 
in  considering  every  uncomplimentary  reference  to  himself 
as  an  indirect  and  semi-official  attack. 

To  these  causes  we  may  attribute  the  French  demands 
of  February  4th  :  contradicting  his  earlier  proposal  for  a 
temporary  Neapolitan  garrison  of  Malta,  Bonaparte  now 
absolutely  refused  either  to  grant  that  necessary  protec- 
tion to  the  weak  Order  of  St.  John,  or  to  join  Great  Brit- 
ain in  an  equal  share  of  the  expenses  —  £20,000  a  year — 
which  such  a  garrison  would  entail.  The  astonishment 
and  indignation  aroused  at  Downing  Street  nearly  led  to 
an  immediate  rupture  of  the  negotiations  ;  and  it  needed 
all  the  patience  of  Cornwallis  and  the  suavity  of  Joseph 
Bonaparte  to  smooth  away  the  asperities  caused  by  Napo- 
leon's direct  intervention.  It  needs  only  a  slight  acquaint- 
ance with  the  First  Consul's  methods  of  thought  and 
expression  to  recognize  in  the  Protocol  of  February  4th 
the  incisive  speech  of  an  autocrat  confident  in  his  newly- 
consolidated  powers  and  irritated  by  the  gibes  of  Peltier.^ 

The  good  sense  of  the  two  plenipotentiaries  at  Amiens 
before  long  effected  a  reconciliation.  Hawkesbury,  writ- 
ing from  Downing  Street,  warned  Cornwallis  that  if 
a  rupture  were  to  take  place  it  must  not  be  owing  to  "  any 
impatience  on  our  part "  :  and  he,  in  his  turn,  affably 
inquired  from  Joseph  Bonaparte  whether  he  had  any  more 
practicable  plan  than  that  of  a  Neapolitan  garrison,  which 
he  had  himself  proposed.  No  plan  was  forthcoming  other 
than  that  of  a  garrison  of  1,000  Swiss  mercenaries ;  and 
as  this  was  open  to  grave  objections,  the  original  proposal 
was  finally  restored.  On  its  side,  the  Court  of  St.  James 
still  refused  to  blow  up  the  fortifications  at  Valetta  ;  and 
rather  than   destroy  those  works,  England  had  already 

I  Napoleon's  letter  of  February  2nd,  1S02,  to  Joseph  Bonaparte ;  see 
too  Comwallis*8  memorandom  of  February  18th. 


326  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  osjlf. 

offered  that  the  independence  of  Malta  should  be  guaran- 
teed by  the  Great  Powers  —  Great  Britain,  France,  Aus- 
tria, Russia,  Spain,  and  Prussia :  to  this  arrangement 
France  soon  assented.  Later  on  we  demanded  that  the 
Neapolitan  garrison  should  remain  in  Malta  for  three  years 
after  the  evacuation  of  the  island  by  the  British  troops ; 
whereas  France  desired  to  limit  the  period  to  one  year. 
To  this  Coruwallis  finally  assented,  with  the  proviso  that, 
"  if  the  Order  of  St.  John  shall  not  have  raised  a  sufficient 
number  of  men,  the  Neapolitan  troops  shall  remain  until 
they  shall  be  relieved  by  an  adequate  force,  to  be  agreed 
upon  by  the  guaranteeing  Powers."  The  question  of  the 
garrison  having  been  arranged,  other  details  gave  less 
trouble,  and  the  Maltese  question  was  settled  in  the  thir- 
teen conditions  added  to  Clause  X.  of  the  definitive  treaty. 

Though  this  complex  question  was  thus  adjusted  by 
March  17th,  other  matters  delayed  a  settlement.  Hawkes- 
bury  still  demanded  a  definite  indemnity  for  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  but  Cornwallis  finally  assented  to  Article 
XVIII.  of  the  treaty,  which  vaguely  promised  "an  ade- 
quate compensation."  Cornwallis  also  persuaded  his 
chief  to  waive  his  claims  for  the  direct  participation  of 
Turkey  in  the  treaty.  The  British  demand  for  an  indem- 
nity for  the  expense  of  supporting  French  prisoners  was 
to  be  relegated  to  commissioners  —  who  never  met. 
Indeed,  this  was  the  only  polite  way  of  escaping  from  the 
untenable  position  which  our  Government  had  heedlessly 
taken  upon  this  topic. 

It  is  clear  from  the  concluding  despatches  of  Corn- 
wallis that  he  was  wheedled  by  Joseph  Bonaparte  into 
conceding  more  than  the  British  Government  had  em- 
powered him  to  do  :  and,  though  the  "  secret  and  most 
confidential"  despatch  of  March  22nd  cautioned  him 
against  narrowing  too  much  the  ground  of  a  rupture,  if 
a  rupture  should  still  occur,  yet  three  days  later,  and 
after  the  receipt  of  this  despatch^  he  signed  the  terms  of 
peace  with  Joseph  Bonaparte,  and  two  days  later  with 
the  other  signatory  Powers.^     It  may  well  be  doubted 

1  It  ifl  only  fair  to  Cornwallis  to  quote  the  letter,  marked  "  Private,'* 
which  he  received  from  Hawkesbory  at  the  same  time  that  he  was  bidden 
to  stand  firm :  — 


ziT  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS  827 

whether  peace  would  ever  have  been  signed  but  for  the 
skill  of  Joseph  Bonaparte  in  polite  cajolery  and  the  de- 
termination of  Cornwallis  to  arrive  at  an  understanding. 
In  any  case  the  final  act  of  signature  was  distinctly  the 
act,  not  of  the  British  Government,  but  of  its  plenipo- 
tentiary. That  fact  is  confirmed  by  his  admission,  on 
March  28th,  that  he  had  yielded  where  he  was  ordered 
to  remain  inflexible.  At  St.  Helena,  Napoleon  also 
averred  that  after  Cornwallis  had  definitely  pledged  him- 
self to  sign  the  treaty  as  it  stood  on  the  night  of  March 
24th,  he  received  instructions  in  a  contrary  sense  from 
Downing  Street;  that  nevertheless  he  held  himself  bound 
by  his  promise  and  signed  the  treaty  on  the  following  day, 
observing  that  his  Government,  if  dissatisfied,  might  refuse 
to  ratify  it,  but  that,  having  pledged  his  word,  he  felt 
bound  to  abide  by  it.  This  story  seems  consonant  with 
the  whole  behaviour  of  Cornwallis,  so  creditable  to  him  as 
a  man,  so  damaging  to  him  as  a  diplomatist.  The  later 
events  of  the  negotiation  aroused  much  annoyance  at 
Downing  Street,  and  the  conduct  of  Cornwallis  met  with 
chilling  disapproval. 

The  First  Consul,  on  the  other  hand,  showed  his  appre- 
ciation of  his  brother's  skill  with  unusual  warmth  ;  for 
when  they  appeared  together  at  the  opera  in  Paris,  he 
affectionately  thrust  his  elder  brother  to  the  front  of  the 
State  box  to  receive  the  plaudits  of  the  audience  at  the 
advent  of  a  definite  peace.  That  was  surely  the  purest 
and  noblest  joy  which  the  brothers  ever  tasted. 

With  what  feelings  of  pride,  not  unmixed  with  awe, 
must  the  brothers  have  surveyed  their  career.  Less  than 
nine  years  had  elapsed  since  their  family  fled  from  Corsica 
and  landed  on  the  coast  of  Provence,  apparently  as  bank- 

«*  Downing  Strbbt,  March  22nd,  1802. 

**  I  thiiik  it  right  to  inform  you  that  I  have  had  a  confidential  com- 
munication  with  Otto,  who  will  use  his  utmost  endeavouts  to  induce  his 
Government  to  agree  to  the  articles  respecting  the  Prince  of  Orange  and 
the  prisoners  in  the  shape  in  which  they  are  now  proposed.  I  have  very 
little  doubt  of  his  success,  and  I  should  hope  therefore  that  you  will  soon 
be  released.  I  need,  not  remind  you  of  the  importance  of  sending  your 
most  expeditious  messenger  the  moment  our  fate  is  determined.  The 
Treasury  is  almost  exhausted,  and  Mr.  Addington  cannot  well  •make  his 
loan  in  the  present  state  of  uncertainty." 


328  THE  LIFE  OF  KAFOLEON  I  chap,  xit 

rupt  in  their  political  hopes  as  in  their  material  fortunes. 
Thrice  did  the  fickle  goddess  cast  Napoleon  to  the  ground 
in  the  first  two  years  of  his  new  life,  only  that  his  won- 
drous gifts  and  sublime  self-confidence  might  tower  aloft 
the  more  conspicuously,  bewildering  alike  the  malcontents 
of  Paris,  ibhe  generals  of  the  old  Empire,  the  peoples  of 
the  Levant,  and  the  statesmen  of  Britain.  Of  all  these 
triumphs  assuredly  the  last  was  not  the  least.  The  Peace 
of  Amiens  left  France  the  arbitress  of  Europe,  and,  by 
restoring  to  her  all  her  lost  colonies,  it  promised  to  plaoe 
her  in  the  van  of  the  oceanic  and  colonizing  peoples. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  FRENCH  COLONIAL  EMPIRE 
ST.   DOMINGO  —  LOUISIANA  —  INDIA  —  AUSTRALIA 

^  n  n'y  a  rien  dans  rhistoire  da  monde  de  comparable  auz  forces 
navales  de  I'Angleterre,  k  T^tendue  et  k  la  richesse  de  son  commerce, 
k  la  masse  de  ses  dettes,  de  ses  defenses,  de  ses  moyens,  et  k  la  fragi- 
lity des  bases  sur  lesquelles  repose  T^difice  immense  de  sa  fortune." 
—  Babon  Maloubt,  Considerations  historiques  sur  V Empire  de  la  Mer. 

There  are  abundant  reasons  for  thinking  that  Napo- 
leon valued  the  Peace  of  Amiens  as  a  necessary  prelimi- 
nary to  the  restoration  of  the  French  Colonial  Empire.  A 
comparison  of  the  dates  at  which  he  set  on  foot  his 
oceanic  schemes  wUl  show  that  they  nearly  all  had  their 
inception  in  the  closing  months  of  1801  and  in  the  course 
of  the  following  year.  The  sole  important  exceptions 
were  the  politico-scientific  expedition  to  Australia,  the 
ostensible  purpose  of  which  insured  immunity  from  the 
attacks  of  English  cruisers  even  in  the  year  1800,  and 
the  plans  for  securing  French  supremacy  in  Egypt,  which 
had  been  frustrated  m  1801  and  were,  to  all  appearance, 
abandoned  by  the  First  Consul  according  to  the  provi- 
sions of  the  Treaty  of  Amiens.  The  question  whether  he 
really  relinquished  his  designs  on  Egypt  is  so  intimately 
connected  with  the  rupture  of  the  Peace  of  Amiens  that 
it  will  be  more  fitly  considered  in  the  following  chapter. 
It  may  not,  however,  be  out  of  place  to  offer  some  proofs 
as  to  the  value  which  Bonaparte  set  on  the  valley  of  the 
Nile  and  the  Isthmus  of  Suez.  A  letter  from  a  spy  at 
Paris,  preserved  in  the  archives  of.  our  Foreign  Office,  and 
dated  July  10th,  1801,  contains  the  following  significant 
statement  with  reference  to  Bonaparte  :  "  Egypt,  which 
is  considered  here  as  lost  to  France,  is  the  ondy  object 
which  interests  his  personal  ambition  and  excites  his 
revenge."     Even  at  the  end  of  his  days,  he  thought  long- 

329 


380  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

ingly  of  the  land  of  the  Pharaohs.  In  his  first  interview 
with  the  governor  of  St.  Helena,  the  illustrious  exile  said 
emphatically :  "  Egypt  is  the  most  important  country  in 
the  world."  The  words  reveal  a  keen  perception  of  all 
the  influences  conducive  to  commercial  prosperity  and 
imperial  greatness.  Egypt,  in  fact,  with  the  Suez  Canal, 
which  his  imagination  cdways  pictured  as  a  necessary 
adjunct,  was  to  be  the  keystone  of  that  arch  of  empire 
which  was  to  span  the  oceans  and  link  the  prairies  of  the 
far  west  to  the  teeming  plains  of  India  and  the  far  Austral 
Isles. 

The  motives  which  impelled  Napoleon  to  the  enter- 
prises now  to  be  considered  were  as  many-sided  as  the 
maritime  ventures  themselves.  Ultimately,  doubtless, 
they  arose  out  of  a  love  of  vast  undertakings  that  minis- 
tered at  once  to  an  expanding  ambition  and  to  that  need 
of  arduous  administrative  toils  for  which  his  mind  ever 
craved  in  the  heyday  of  its  activity.  And,  while  satiat- 
ing the  grinding  powers  of  his  otherwise  morbidly  rest- 
less spirit,  these  enterprises  also  fed  and  soothed  those 
imperious,  if  unconscious,  instincts  which  prompt  every 
able  man  of  inquiring  mind  to  reclaim  all  possible  do- 
mains from  the  unknown  or  the  chaotic.  As  Egypt  had, 
for  the  present  at  least,  been  reft  from  his  grasp,  he 
turned  naturally  to  all  other  lands  that  could  be  forced 
to  yield  their  secrets  to  the  inquirer,  or  their  comforts  to 
the  benefactors  of  mankind.  Only  a  dull  cynicism  can 
deny  this  motive  to  the  man  who  first  unlocked  the  doors 
of  Egyptian  civilization  ;  and  it  would  be  equally  futile  to 
deny  to  him  the  same  beneficent  aims  with  regard  to  the 
settlement  of  the  plains  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  coasts 
of  New  Holland. 

The  peculiarities  of  the  condition  of  France  furnished 
another  powerful  impulse  towards  colonization.  In  the 
last  decade  her  people  had  suffered  from  an  excess  of 
mental  activity  and  nervous  excitement.  From  philo- 
sophical and  political  speculation  they  must  be  brought 
back  to  the  practical  and  prosaic;  and  what  influence 
could  be  so  healthy  as  the  turning  up  of  new  soil  and 
other  processes  that  satisfy  the  primitive  instincts  ?  Some 
of  these,  it  was  true,  were  being  met  by  the  increasing 


XV  A  FRENCH  COLONIAL  EMPIRE  331 

peasant  proprietary  in  France  herself.  But  this  internal 
development,  salutary  as  it  was,  could  not  appease  the 
restless  spirits  of  the  towns  or  the  ambition  of  the  sol- 
diery. Foreign  adventures  and  oceanic  commerce  alone 
could  satisfy  the  Parisians  and  open  up  new  careers  for 
the  Prdstorian  chiefs,  whom  the  First  Consul  alone  really 
feared. 

Nor  were  these  sentiments  felt  by  him  alone.  In  a 
paper  which  Talleyrand  read  to  the  Institute  of  France 
in  July,  1797,  that  far-seeing  statesman  had  dwelt  upon 
the  pacifying  influences  exerted  hj  foreign  commerce 
and  colonial  settlements  on  a  too  introspective  nation. 
His  words  bear  witness  to  the  keenness  of  his  insight 
into  the  maladies  of  his  own  people  and  the  sources  of 
social  and  political  strength  enjoyed  by  the  United 
States,  where  he  had  recently  sojourned.  Referring  to 
their  speedy  recovery  from  the  tumults  of  their  revolu- 
tion he  said:  ^^The  true  Lethe  after  passing  through  a 
revolution  is  to  be  found  in  the  opening  out  to  men  of 
every  avenue  of  hope.  —  Revolutions  leave  behind  them 
a  general  restlessness  of  mind,  a  need  of  movement." 
That  need  was  met  in  America  by  mau's  warfare  against 
the  forest,  the  flood,  and  prairie.  France  must  there- 
fore possess  colonies  as  intellectual  and  political  safety- 
valves  ;  and  in  his  graceful,  airy  style  he  touched  on  the 
advantages  offered  by  Egypt,  Louisiana,  and  West  Africa, 
both  for  their  intrinsic  value  and  as  opening  the  door  of 
work  and  of  hope  to  a  brain-sick  generation. 

Following  up  this  clue,  Bonaparte,  at  a  somewhat 
later  date,  remarked  the  tendencv  of  the  French  people, 
now  that  the  revolutionary  strifes  were  past,  to  settle 
down  contentedly  on  their  own  little  plots;  and  he 
emphasized  the  need  of  a  colonial  policy  such  as  would 
widen  the  national  life.  The  remark  has  been  largely 
justified  by  events;  and  doubtless  he  discerned  in  the 
agrarian  reforms  of  the  Revolution  an  influence  un- 
favourable to  that  racial  dispersion  which,  under  wise 
guidauce,  builds  up  an  oceanic  empire.  The  grievances 
of  the  ancien  rSgime  had  helped  to  scatter  on  the  shores 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  the  seeds  of  a  possible  New  France. 
Primogeniture  was  ever  driving  from  England  her  younger 


832  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

sons  to  found  New  Englands  and  expand  the  commerce 
of  the  motherland.  Let  not  France  now  rest  at  home, 
content  with  her  perfect  laws  and  with  the  conquest  of 
her  ^^ natural  frontiers."  Let  her  rather  strive  to  regain 
the  first  place  in  colonial  activity  which  the  follies  of 
Louis  XV.  and  the  secular  jealousy  of  Albion  had  filched 
from  her.  In  the  effort  she  would  extend  the  bounds 
of  civilization,  lay  the  ghost  of  Jacobinism,  satisfy  mili- 
tary and  naval  adventures,  and  unconsciously  revert  to 
the  ideas  and  governmental  methods  of  the  age  of  le 
grand  monarque. 

The  French  possessions  beyond  the  seas  had  never 
shrunk  to  a  smaller  area  than  in  the  closing  years  of  the 
late  war  with  England.  The  fact  was  confessed  by  the 
First  Consul  in  his  letter  of  October  7th,  1801,  to  Decres, 
the  Minister  for  the  Navy  and  the  Colonies :  "  Our  pos- 
sessions beyond  the  se€^  which  are  now  in  our  power, 
are  limited  to  Saint  Domingo,  Guadeloupe,  the  Isle  of 
France  (Mauritius),  the  Isle  of  Bourbon,  Senegal,  and 
Gruiana."  After  rendering  this  involuntary  homage  to 
the  prowess  of  the  British  navy,  Bonaparte  proceeded  to 
describe  the  first  measures  for  the  organization  of  these 
colonies :  for  not  tmtil  March  25th,  1802,  when  the  de- 
finitive treaty  of  peace  was  signed,  could  the  others  be 
regained  by  France. 

First  in  importance  came  the  re-establishment  of  French 
authority  in  the  large  and  fertile  island  of  Hayti,  or  St. 
Domingo.  It  needs  an  effort  of  the  imagination  for  the 
modern  reader  to  realize  the  immense  importance  of  the 
West  Indian  islands  at  the  beginning  of  the  century 
whose  close  found  them  depressed  and  half  bankrupt. 
At  the  earlier  date,  when  the  name  Australia  was  unknown 
and  the  half-starved  settlement  in  and  around  Sydney 
represented  the  sole  wealth  of  that  isle  of  continent ;  when 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  was  looked  on  only  as  a  port  of 
call ;  when  the  United  States  numbered  less  than  five  and 
a  half  million  souls,  and  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi 
rolled  in  unsullied  majesty  past  a  few  petty  Spanish 
stations  —  the  plantations  oi  the  West  Indies  seemed  the 
unfailing  mine  of  colonial  industry  and  commerce.     Under 


XV  ST.   DOMINGO  333 

the  ancten  rSgime^  the  trade  of  the  French  portion  of  St. 
Domingo  is  reported  to  have  represented  more  than  half 
of  her  oceanic  commerce.  But  during  the  Revolution  the 
prosperity  of  that  colony  reeled  under  a  terrible  blow. 

The  hasty  proclamation  of  equality  between  whites  and 
blacks  by  the  French  revolutionists,  and  the  refusal  of  the 
planters  to  recognize  that  decree  as  binding,  led  to  a  terri- 
ble servile  revolt,  which  desolated  the  whole  of  the  colony. 
Those  merciless  strifes  had,  however,  somewhat  abated 
under  the  organizing  power  of  a  man  in  whom  the  black 
race  seem  to  have  vindicated  its  claims  to  political  capacity. 
Toussaint  I'Ouverture  had  come  to  the  front  by  sheer 
sagacity  and  force  of  character.  By  a  deft  mixture  of 
force  and  clemency,  he  imposed  order  on  the  vapouring 
crowds  of  negroes :  he  restored  the  French  part  of  the 
island  to  comparative  order  and  prosperity  :  and  with  an 
army  of  20,000  men  he  occupied  the  Spanish  portion.  In 
this,  as  in  other  matters,  he  appeared  to  act  as  the  manda- 
tory of  France ;  but  he  looked  to  the  time  when  France, 
beset  by  European  warft,  would  tacitly  acknowledge  his 
independence.  In  May,  1801,  he  made  a  constitution  for 
the  island,  and  declared  himself  governor  for  life,  with 
power  to  appoint  his  successor.  This  mimicry  of  the  con- 
sular office,  and  the  open  vaunt  that  he  was  the  ^'  Bonaparte 
of  the  Antilles,"  incensed  Bonaparte  ;  and  the  haste  with 
which,  on  the  day  after  the  Preliminaries  of  London,  he 
prepared  to  overthrow  this  contemptible  rival,  tells  its  own 
tale. 

Yet  Corsican  hatred  was  tempered  with  Corsican  guile. 
Toussaint  had  requested  that  the  Ha3rtians  should  be  under 
the  protection  of  their  former  mistress.  Protection  was 
the  last  thing  that  Bonaparte  desired ;  but  he  deemed  it 
politic  to  flatter  the  black  chieftain  with  assurances  of  his 
personal  esteem  and  gratitude  for  the  *^  great  services  which 
you  have  rendered  to  the  French  people.  If  its  flag  floats 
over  St.  Domingo  it  is  due  to  you  and  your  brave  blacks  " 
— a  reference  to  Toussaint's  successful  resistance  to  English 
attempts  at  landing.  There  were,  it  is  true,  some  points  in 
the  new  Haytian  constitution  which  contravened  the  sov- 
ereign rights  of  France,  but  these  were  pardonable  in  the 
difficult  circumstances  which  had  pressed  on  Toussaint : 


334  THE  LIFE   OF  NAPOLEON  I  cbjlp. 

he  was  now,  however,  invited  to  amend  them  so  as  to  recog- 
nize the  complete  sovereignty  of  the  motherland  and  the 
authority  of  General  Leclerc,  whom  Bonaparte  sent  out  as 
captain-general  of  the  island.     To  this  officer,  the  husband 
of  Pauline  Bonaparte,  the  First  Consul  wrote  on  the  same 
day  that  there  was  reported  to  be  much  ferment  in  the 
island  against  Toussaint,  that  the  obstacles  to  be  overcome 
would  therefore  be  much  less  formidable  than  had  been 
feared,  provided  that  activity  and  firmness  were  used.      In 
his  references  to  the  burning  topic  of  slavery,  the  First 
Consul  showed  a  similar  reserve.     The  French  Republic 
having  abolished  it,  he  could  not,  as  yet,  openly  restore  an 
institution  flaCTantly  opposed  to  the  Rights  of  Man.     Os- 
tensibly thereiore  he  figured  as  the  champion  of  emancipa- 
tion, assuring  the  Haytians  in  his  proclamation  of  November 
8th,  1801,  that  they  were  all  free  and  all  equal  in  the  sight 
of  God  and  of  the  French  Republic  :    "  If  you  are  told, 
'  These  forces  are  destined  to  snatch  your  liberty  from  you,* 
reply,  *  The  Republic  has  given  us  our  liberty  :  it  will  not 
allow  it  to  be  taken  from  us.' "   «0f  a  similar  tenor  was 
his  public  declaration  a  fortnight  later,  that  at  St.  Do- 
mingo and  Guadeloupe  everybody  was  free  and  would 
remain  free.     Very  different  were  his  private  instructions. 
On  the  last  day  of  October  he  ordered  Talleyrand  to  write 
to  the  British  6ovemment,  asking  for  their  help  in  supply- 
ing provisions  from  Jamaica  to  this  expedition  destined  to 
"  destroy  the  new  Algiers  being  organized  in  American 
waters  "  ;  and  a  fortnight  later  he  charged  him  to  state 
his  resolve  to  destroy  the  government  of  the  blacks  at  St. 
Domingo ;  that  if  he  had  to  postpone  the  expedition  for  a 
year,  he  would  be  "obliged  to  constitute  the  blacks  as 
French  "  ;  and  that  "  the  liberty  of  the  blacks,  if  recog- 
nized by  the  Government,  would  always  be  a  support  for 
the  Republic  in  the  New  World."    As  he  was  striving  to 
cajole  our  Government  into  supporting  his  expedition,  it 
is  clear  that  in  the  last  enigmatic  phrase  he  was  bidding 
for  that  support  by  the  hint  of  a  prospective  restoration 
of  slavery  at  St.  Domingo.     A  comparison  of  his  public 
and  private  statements  must  have  produced  a  curious 
effect  on  the  British  Ministers,  and  many  of  the  difficul- 
ties during  the  negotiations  at  Amiens  doubtless  sprang 


XT  ST.   DOMINGO  885 

out  of  their  knowledge  of  his  double-dealing  in  the  West 
Indies. 

The  means  at  the  First  Consul's  disposal  might  have 
been  considered  sufficient  to  dispense  with  these  paltry 
devices  ;  for  when  the  squadrons  of  Brest,  Lorient,  Roche- 
fort,  and  Toulon  had  joined  their  forces,  they  mustered 
thirty-two  ships  of  the  line  and  thirty-one  frigates,  with 
more  than  20,000  troops  on  board.  So  great,  indeed,  was 
the  force  as  to  occasion  strong  remonstrances  from  the 
British  Government,  and  a  warning  that  a  proportionately 
strong  fleet  would  be  sent  to  watch  over  the  safety  of  our 
West  Indies.^  The  size  of  the  French  armada  and  the 
warnings  which  Toussaint  received  from  Europe  induced 
that  wily  dictator  to  adopt  stringent  precautionary 
measures.  He  persuaded  the  blacks  that  the  French  were 
about  to  enslave  them  once  more,  and,  raising  the  spectre 
of  bondage,  he  quelled  sedition,  ravaged  the  maritime 
towns,  and  awaited  the  French  in  the  interior,  in  confident 
expectation  that  yellow  fever  would  winnow  their  ranks 
and  reduce  them  to  a  level  with  his  own  strength. 

His  hopes  were  ultimately  realized,  but  not  until  he  him- 
self succumbed  to  the  hardihood  of  the  I'rench  attack. 
Leclerc's  army  swept  across  the  desolated  belt  with  an 
ardour  that  was  redoubled  by  the  sight  of  the  mangled 
remains  of  white  people  strewn  amidst  the  negro  encamp- 
ments, and  stormed  Toussaint's  chief  stronghold  at  Crete- 
a-Pierrot.  The  dictator  and  his  factious  lieutenants 
thereupon  surrendered  (May  8th,  1802),  on  condition  of 
their  official  rank  being  respected  —  a  stipulation  which 
both  sides  must  have  regarded  as  unreal  and  impossible. 
The  French  then  pressed  on  to  secure  the  subjection  of 
the  whole  island  before  the  advent  of  the  unhealthy  sea- 
son which  Toussaint  eagerly  awaited.  It  now  set  in  with 
unusual  virulence ;  and  in  a  few  days  the  conquerors 
found  their  force  reduced  to  12,000  effectives.  Suspect- 
ing  Toussaint's  designs,   Leclerc  seized  him.     He   was 

1  See  the  British  notes  of  November  6th-16th,  1801,  in  the  '*  Comwallis 
Correspondence/*  vol.  iii.  In  his  speech  in  the  House  of  Lords,  May 
13th,  1802,  Lord  Grenville  complained  that  we  had  had  to  send  to  the 
West  Indies  in  time  of  peace  a  fleet  doable  as  laige  as  that  kept  there 
during  the  late  war. 


336  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap. 

empowered  to  do  so  by  Bonaparte^s  orders  of  March  16th, 

1802: 

<'  Follow  your  instructions  exactly,  and  as  soon  as  you  have  done 
with  ToussaiDt,  Christopher,  Dessalines,  and  the  chief  brigands,  and 
the  masses  of  the  blacks  are  disarmed,  send  to  the  continent  all  the 
blacks  and  the  half-castes  who  haye  taken  part  in  the  civil  troubles." 

Toussaint  was  hurried  off  to  France,  where  he  died  a  year 
later  from  the  hardships  to  which  he  was  exposed  at  the 
fort  of  Joux  among  the  Juras. 

Long  before  the  cold  of  a  French  winter  claimed  the 
life  of  Toussaint,  his  antagonist  fell  a  victim  to  the 
sweltering  heats  of  the  tropics.  On  November  2nd,  1802, 
Leclerc  succumbed  to  the  unhealthy  climate  and  to  his 
ceaseless  anxieties.  In  the  Notes,  dictated  at  St.  Helena, 
Napoleon  submitted  Leclerc^s  memory  to  some  strictures 
for  his  indiscretion  in  regard  to  the  proposed  restoration 
of  slavery.  The  official  letters  of  that  officer  expose  the 
injustice  of  the  charge.  The  facts  are  these.  After  the 
seeming  submission  of  St.  Domingo,  the  First  Consul 
caused  a  decree  to  be  secretly  passed  at  Paris  (May  20th, 
1802),  which  prepared  to  re-establish  slavery  in  the  West 
Indies ;  but  Decres  warned  Leclerc  that  it  was  not  for 
the  present  to  be  applied  to  St.  Domingo  unless  it  seemed 
to  be  opportune.  Knowing  how  fatal  any  such  proclama- 
tion would  be,  Leclerc  suppressed  the  decree ;  but  Gen- 
eral Richepanse,  who  was  now  governor  of  the  island  of 
Guadeloupe,  not  only  issued  the  decree,  but  proceeded  to 
enforce  it  with  rigour.  It  was  this  which  caused  the  last 
and  most  desperate  revolts  of  the  blacks,  fatal  alike  to 
French  domination  and  to  Leclerc's  life.  His  successor, 
Rochambeau,  in  spite  of  strong  reinforcements  of  troops 
from  France  and  a  policy  of  the  utmost  rigour,  succeeded 
no  better.  In  the  island  of  Guadeloupe  the  rebels  openly 
defied  the  authority  of  France  ;  and,  on  the  renewal  of 
war  between  England  and  France,  the  remains  of  the 
expedition  were  for  the  most  part  constrained  to  sur- 
render to  the  British  flag  or  to  the  insurgent  blacks. 
The  island  recovered  its  so-called  independence  ;  and  the 
sole  result  of  Napoleon's  efforts  in  this  sphere  was  the 
loss  of  more  than  twenty  generals  and  some  80,000  troops. 


XV  LOUISIANA  837 

The  assertion  has  been  made  by  Lanfrey  that  the  First 
Consul  told  off  for  this  service  the  troops  of  the  Army 
of  the  Rhine,  with  the  aim  of  exposing  to  the  risks  of 
tropical  life  the  most  republican  part  of  the  French  forces. 
That  these  furnished  a  large  part  of  the  expeditionary 
force  cannot  be  denied  ;  but  if  his  design  was  to  rid  him- 
self of  political  foes,  it  is  difficult  to  see  why  he  should 
not  have  selected  Moreau,  Massena,  or  Augereau,  rather 
than  Leclerc.  The  fact  that  his  brother-in-law  was 
accompanied  by  his  wife,  Pauline  Bonaparte,  for  whom 
venomous  tongues  asserted  that  Napoleon  cherished  a 
more  than  brotherly  affection,  will  suffice  to  refute  the 
slander.  Finally,  it  may  be  remarked  that  Bonaparte 
had  not  hesitated  to  subject  the  choicest  part  of  his  Army 
of  Italy  and  his  own  special  friends  to  similar  risks  in 
Egypt  and  Syria.  He  never  hesitated  to  sacrifice  thou- 
sands of  lives  when  a  great  object  was  at  stake  ;  and  the 
restoration  of  the  French  West  Indian  Colonies  might 
well  seem  worth  an  army,  especially  as  St.  Domingo  was 
not  only  of  immense  intrinsic  value  to  France  in  days 
when  beetroot  sugar  was  unknown,  but  was  of  strategic 
importance  as  a  base  of  operations  for  the  vast  colonial 
empire  which  the  First  Consul  proposed  to  rebuild  in  the 
basin  of  the  Mississippi. 

The  history  of  the  French  possessions  on  the  North 
American  continent  could  scarcely  be  recalled  by  ardent 
patriots  without  pangs  of  remorse.  The  name  Louisiana, 
applied  to  a  vast  territory  stretching  up  the  banks  of  the 
Mississippi  and  the  Missouri,  recalled  the  glorious  days  of 
Louis  XIV.,  when  the  French  flag  was  borne  by  stout 
voyageur$  up  the  foaming  rivers  of  Canada  and  the  placid 
reaches  of  the  father  of  rivers.  It  had  been  the  ambition 
of  Montcalm  to  connect  the  French  stations  on  Lake  Erie 
with  the  forts  of  Louisiana ;  but  that  warrior-statesman 
in  the  West,  as  his  kindred  spirit,  Dupleix,  in  the  East, 
had  fallen  on  the  evil  days  of  Louis  XV.,  when  valour 
and  merit  in  the  French  colonies  were  sacrificed  to  the 
pleasures  and  parasites  of  Versailles.  The  natural  result 
followed.  Louisiana  was  yielded  up  to  Spain  in  1763,  in 
order  to  reconcile  the  Court  of  Madrid  to  cessions  required 


338  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ciujp. 

by  that  same  Peace  of  Paris.  Twenty  years  later  Spain 
recovered  from  England  the  provinces  of  eastern  and 
western  Florida  ;  and  thus,  at  the  dawn  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  the  red  and  yellow  flag  waved  over  all  the  lands 
between  California,  New  Orleans,  and  the  southern  tip  of 
Florida.i 

Many  efforts  were  made  by  France  to  regain  her  old 
Mississippi  province  ;  and  in  1795,  at  the  break  up  of 
the  First  Coalition,  the  victorious  Republic  pressed  Spain 
to  yield  up  this  territory,  where  the  settlers  were  still 
French  at  heart.  Doubtless  the  weak  King  of  Spain 
would  have  yielded ;  but  his  chief  Minister,  Godoy,  clung 
tenaciously  to  Louisiana,  and  consented  to  cede  only 
the  Spanish  part  of  St.  Domingo  —  a  diplomatic  success 
which  helped  to  earn  him  the  title  of  the  Prince  of  the 
Peace.  So  matters  remained  until  Talleyrand,  as  Foreign 
Minister,  sought  to  gain  Louisiana  from  Spain  before  it 
slipped  into  the  horny  fists  of  the  Anglo-Saxons. 

That  there  was  every  prospect  of  this  last  event  was  the 
conviction  not  only  of  the  politicians  at  Washington,  but 
also  of  every  iron- worker  on  the  Ohio  and  of  every  planter 
on  the  Tennessee.  Those  young  but  growing  settlements 
chafed  against  the  restraints  imposed  by  Spain  on  the 
river  trade  of  the  lower  Mississippi  —  the  sole  means 
available  for  their  exports  in  times  when  the  AUeghanies 
were  crossed  by  only  two  tracks  worthy  the  name  of 
roads.  In  1795  thev  gained  free  egress  to  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico  and  the  right  of  bonding  their  merchandise  in 
a  special  warehouse  at  New  Orleans.  Thereafter  the 
United  States  calmly  awaited  the  time  when  racial 
vigour  and  the  exigencies  of  commerce  should  yield  to 
them  the  possession  of    the   western  prairies  and    the 

^For  these  and  the  following  negotiations  see  Lucien  Bonaparte^s 
«»M6moires/'  vol.  ii.,  and  Garden's  »*Trait6s  de  Paix,"  vol.  iii.,  ch. 
xxxlv.  The  Hon.  H.  Taylor,  in  **  The  North  American  Review  "  of  No- 
vember, 1898,  has  computed  that  the  New  World  was  thus  divided  in 
1801: 

Spain 7,028,000  square  rnUes. 

Great  Britain 3,719,000      "        " 

Portugal 3,209,000      "        *• 

United  States 827,000      "        " 

Russia 677,000      "        " 

France 29,000      "        " 


XT  LOUISIANA  3S9 

little  townships  of  Arkansas  and  New  Orleans.  They 
reckoned  without  taking  count  of  the  eager  longing  of  the 
French  for  their  former  colony  and  the  determination  of 
Napoleon  to  g^ve  effect  to  this  honourable  sentiment. 

In  July,  1800,  when  his  negotiations  with  the  United 
States  were  in  good  train,  the  First  Consul  sent  to 
Madrid  instructions  empowering  the  French  Minister 
there  to  arrange  a  treaty  whereby  France  should  re- 
ceive Louisiana  in  return  for  the  cession  of  Tuscany  to 
the  heir  of  the  Duke  of  Parma.  This  young  man  had 
married  the  daughter  of  Charles  IV.  of  Spain  ;  and,  for 
the  aggrandizement  of  his  son-in-law,  that  roi  fainSant^ 
was  ready,  nay  eager,  to  bargain  away  a  quarter  of  a 
continent ;  and  he  did  so  by  a  secret  convention  signed 
at  St.  Ildefonso  on  October  7th,  1800. 

But  tKough  Charles  rejoiced  over  this  exchange, 
Godoy,  who  was  gifted  with  some  insight  into  the  fu- 
ture, was  determined  to  frustrate  it.  Various  events 
occurred  which  enabled  this  wily  Minister,  first  to  delay, 
and  then  almost  to  prevent,  the  odious  surrender. 
Chief  among  these  was  the  certainty  that  the  transfer 
from  weak  hands  to  strong  hands  would  be  passionately 
resented  by  the  United  States ;  and  until  peace  with 
England  was  fuUv  assured,  and  the  power  of  Toussaint 
broken,  it  would  oe  folly  for  the  First  Consul  to  risk  a 
conflict  with  the  United  States.  That  they  would  fight 
rather  than  see  the  western  prairies  pass  into  the  First 
Consul's  hands  was  abundantly  manifest.  It  is  proved 
by  many  patriotic  pamphlets.  The  most  important  of 
these  — "  An  Address  to  the  Government  of  the  United 
States  on  the  Cession  of  Louisiana  to  the  French,"  pub- 
lished at  Philadelphia  in  1802  —  quoted  largely  from  a 
French  brochure  by  a  French  Councillor  of  State.  The 
French  writer  had  stated  that  along  the  Mississippi  his 
countrymen  would  find  boundless  fertile  prairies,  and  as 
for  the  opposition  of  the  United  States — "a  nation  of 
pedlars  and  shopkeepers"  —  that  could  be  crushed  by  a 
French  alliance  with  the  Indian  tribes.  The  American 
writer  thereupon  passionately  called  on  his  fellow-citizens 
to  prevent  this  transfer  :  "  France  is  to  be  dreaded  only, 
or  chiefly,  on  the  Mississippi.      The  government  must 


340  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  cbip. 

take  Louisiana  before  it  passes  into  her  hands.  The 
iron  is  now  hot ;  command  us  to  rise  as  one  man  and 
strike."  These  and  other  like  protests  at  hist  stirred 
the  placid  Government  at  Washington ;  and  it  bade  the 
American  Minister  at  Paris  to  make  urgent  remon- 
strances, the  sole  effect  of  which  was  to  draw  from 
Talleyrand  the  bland  assurance  that  the  transfer  had 
not  been  seriously  contemplated.^ 

By  the  month  of  June,  1802,  all  circumstances  seemed 
to  smile  on  Napoleon's  enterprise :  England  had  ratified 
the  Peace  of  Amiens,  Toussaint  had  delivered  himself 
up  to  Leclerc :  France  had  her  troops  strongly  posted  in 
Tuscany  and  Parm€^  and  could,  if  necessary,  forcibly  end 
the  remaining  scruples  felt  at  Madrid  :  while  the  United 
States,  with  a  feeble  army  and  a  rotting  navy,  were  con- 
trolled by  the  most  peaceable  and  Franco-ptiil  of  their 
presidents,  Thomas  Jefferson.  The  First  Consul  accord- 
ingly ordered  an  expedition  to  be  prepared,  as  if  for  the 
reinforcement  of  Leclerc  in  St.  Domingo,  though  it  was 
really  destined  for  New  Orleans ;  and  he  instructed  Tal- 
leyrand to  soothe  or  coerce  the  Court  of  Madrid  into  the 
final  act  of  transfer.  The  offer  was  therefore  made  by 
the  latter  (June  19th)  in  the  name  of  the  First  Consul 
that  in  no  case  would  Louiniana  ever  be  alienated  to  a  Third 
Power,  When  further  delays  supervened,  Bonaparte,  true 
to  his  policy  of  continually  raising  his  demands,  required 
that  Eastern  and  Western  Florida  should  also  be  ceded  to 
him  by  Spain,  on  condition  that  the  young  King  of  Etru- 
ria  (for  so  Tuscany  was  now  to  be  styled)  should  regain 
his  father's  duchy  of  Parma.^ 

A  word  of  explanation  must  here  find  place  as  to  this 
singular  proposal.  Parma  had  long  been  under  French 
control;  and,  in  March,  1801,  by  the  secret  Treaty  of 
Madrid,  the  ruler  of  that  duchy,  whose  death  seemed  im- 
minent, was  to  resign  his  claims  thereto,  provided  that 
his  son  should  gain  Etruria  —  as  had  been  already  pro- 
vided for  at  St.  Ildefonso  and  Luneville.  The  duke  was, 
however,  allowed  to  keep  his  duchy  until  his  death,  which 

1  "  History  of  the  United  States,  1801-1813/'  by  H.  Adams,  vol.  i., 
p.  409. 

>  Napoleon's  letter  of  November  2nd,  1802. 


XT  LOUISIANA  841 

occurred  on  October  9th,  1802 ;  and  it  is  stated  by  our 
envoy  in  Paris  to  have  been  hastened  by  news  of  that 
odious  bargain.^  His  death  now  furnished  Bonaparte 
with  a  good  occasion  for  seeking  to  win  an  immense  area 
in  the  New  World  at  the  expense  of  a  small  Italian  duchy, 
which  his  troops  could  at  any  time  easily  overrun.  This 
consideration  seems  to  have  occtirred  even  to  Charles  IV. ; 
he  refused  to  barter  the  Floridas  against  Parma.  The  re- 
establishment  of  his  son-in-law  in  his  paternal  domains 
was  doubtless  desirable,  but  not  at  the  cost  of  so  exact- 
ing a  heriot  as  East  and  West  Florida. 

From  out  this  maze  of  sordid  intrigues  two  or  three 
facts  challenge  our  attention.  Both  Bonaparte  and 
Charles  IV.  regarded  the  most  fertile  waste  lands  then 
calling  for  the  plough  as  fairly  exchanged  against  half 
a  million  of  Tuscans ;  but  the  former  feared  the  resent- 
ment of  the  United  States,  and  sought  to  postpone  a  rup- 
ture until  he  could  coerce  them  by  overwhelming  force. 
It  is  equally  clear  that,  had  he  succeeded  in  this  enter- 
prise, France  might  have  gained  a  great  colonial  empire 
in  North  America  protected  from  St.  Domingo  as  a  naval 
and  military  base,  while  that  island  would  nave  doubly 
prospered  from  the  vast  supplies  poured  down  the  Missis- 
sippi ;  but  this  success  he  would  have  bought  at  the  ex- 
pense of  a  rapprochement  between  the  United  States  and 
their  motherland,  such  as  a  bitter  destiny  was  to  postpone 
to  the  end  of  the  century. 

The  prospect  of  an  Anglo-American  alliance  might  well 
give  pause  even  to  Napoleon.  Nevertheless,  he  resolved 
to  complete  this  vast  enterprise,  which,  if  successful,  would 
have  profoundly  affected  the  New  World  and  the  relative 
importance  of  the  French  and  English  peoples.  The  Span- 
ish officials  at  New  Orleans,  in  pursuance  of  orders  from 
Madrid,  now  closed  the  lower  Mississippi  to  vessels  of  the 
United  States  (October,  1802).  At  once  a  furious  out- 
cry arose  in  the  States  against  an  act  which  not  only  vio- 
lated their  treaty  rights,  but  foreshadowed  the  coming 
grip  of  the  First  Consul.  For  this  outburst  he  was  pre- 
pared :  General  Victor  was  at  Dunkirk,  with  five  battal- 
ions and  sixteen  field-pieces,  ready  to  cross  the  Atlantic, 

1  Merry's  despatch  of  Ootober  2l8t,  1802. 


842  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

ostensibly  for  the  relief  of  Leclerc,  but  really  in  order  to 
take  possession  of  New  Orleans.^  But  his  plan  was  foiled 
by  the  sure  instincts  of  the  American  people,  by  the  dis- 
asters of  the  St.  Domingo  expedition,  and  by  the  restless- 
ness of  England  under  his  various  provocations.  Jefferson, 
despite  his  predilections  for  France,  was  compelled  to  for- 
bid the  occupation  of  Louisiana :  he  accordingly  sent  Mon- 
roe to  Paris  with  instructions  to  effect  a  compromise,  or 
even  to  buy  outright  the  French  claims  on  that  land. 
Various  circumstances  favoured  this  mission.  In  the 
first  week  of  the  year  1803  Napoleon  received  the  news 
of  Leclerc's  death  and  the  miserable  state  of  the  French 
in  St.  Domingo ;  and  as  the  tidings  that  he  now  received 
from  Egypt,  Syria,  Corfu,  and  the  East  generally,  were 
of  the  most  alluring  kind,  he  tacitly  abandoned  his  Mis- 
sissippi enterprise  in  favour  of  the  oriental  schemes  which 
were  closer  to  his  heart.  In  that  month  of  January  he 
seems  to  have  turned  his  gaze  from  the  western  hemi- 
sphere towards  Turkey,  Egypt,  and  India.  True,  he 
still  seemed  to  be  doing  his  utmost  for  the  occupation  of 
Louisiana,  but  only  as  a  device  for  sustaining  the  selling 
price  of  the  western  prairies. 

When  the  news  of  this  change  of  policy  reached  the 
ears  of  Joseph  and  Lucien  Bonaparte,  it  aroused  their 
bitterest  opposition.  Lucien  plumed  himself  on  having 
struck  the  bargain  with  Spain  which  had  secured  that 
vast  province  at  the  expense  of  an  Austrian  archduke's 
crown  ;  and  Joseph  knew  only  too  well  that  Napoleon 
was  freeing  himself  in  the  West  in  order  to  be  free  to 
strike  hard  in  Europe  and  the  East.  The  imminent 
rupture  of  the  Peace  of  Amiens  touched  him  keenly :  for 
that  peace  was  his  proudest  achievement.  If  colonial 
adventures  must  be  sought,  let  them  be  sought  in  the 
New  World,  where  Spain  and  the  United  States  could 

^  The  instructions  which  he  sent  to  Victor  supply  an  interesting  com- 
mentary on  French  colonial  policy :  **  The  system  of  this,  as  of  all  our 
other  colonies,  should  be  to  concentrate  its  commerce  in  the  national  com- 
merce :  it  should  especially  aim  at  establishing  its  relations  with  our  An- 
tilles, so  as  to  take  Uie  place  in  those  colonies  of  the  American  commerce. 
.  .  .  The  captain-general  should  abstain  from  every  innovation  favour- 
able to  strangers,  who  should  be  restricted  to  such  communicationa  as  are 
absolutely  indispensable  to  the  prosperity  of  Louisiana. 


ZY  LOUISIANA  848 

offer  only  a  feeble  resistance,  rather  than  in  Europe  and 
Asia,  where  unending  war  must  be  the  result  of  an  aggres- 
sive policy. 

At  once  the  brothers  sought  an  interview  with  Napoleon. 
He  chanced  to  be  in  his  bath,  a  warm  bath  perfumed  with 
scents,  where  he  believed  that  tired  nature  most  readily 
found  recovery.  He  ordered  them  to  be  admitted,  and 
an  interesting  family  discussion  was  the  result.  On  his 
mentioning  the  proposed  sale,  Lucien  at  once  retorted 
that  the  Legislature  would  never  consent  to  this  sacrifice: 
He  there  touched  the  wrong  chord  in  Napoleon's  nature  : 
had  he  appealed  to  the  memories  of  le  grand  monarque  and 
of  Montcalm,  possibly  he  might  have  bent  that  iron  will ; 
but  the  mention  of  the  consent  of  the  French  deputies 
roused  the  spleen  of  the  autocrat,  who,  from  amidst 
the  scented  water,  mockingly  bade  his  brother  go  into 
mourning  for  the  affair,  which  he,  and  he  alone,  intended 
to  carry  out.  This  gibe  led  Joseph  to  threaten  that  he 
would  mount  the  tribune  in  the  Chambers  and  head  the 
opposition  to  this  unpatriotic  surrender.  Defiance  flashed 
forth  once  more  from  the  bath ;  and  the  First  Consul 
finally  ended  their  bitter  retorts  by  spasmodically  rising, 
as  suddenly  falling  backwards,  and  drenching  Joseph  to 
the  skin.  His  peals  of  scornful  laughter,  and  the  swoon- 
ing of  the  valet,  who  was  not  yet  fully  inured  to  these 
family  scenes,  interrupted  the  argument  of  the  piece ; 
but,  when  resumed  a  little  later,  d  »ec^  Lucien  wound  up 
by  declaring  that,  if  he  were  not  his  brother,  he  would  be 
his  enemy.  "  My  enemy  I  That  is  rather  strong,"  ex- 
claimed Napoleon.  "You  my  enemy  I  I  would  break 
you,  see,  like  this  box  " —  and  he  dashed  his  snuff-box  on 
the  carpet.  It  did  not  break :  but  the  portrait  of  Josephine 
was  detached  and  broken.  Whereupon  Lucien  picked  up 
the  pieces  and  handed  them  to  his  brother,  remarking : 
"  It  is  a  pity  :  meanwhile,  until  you  can  break  me,  it  is 
your  wife's  portrait  that  you  have  broken."  ^ 

To  Talleyrand,  Napoleon  was  equally  unbending  :  sum- 
moning him  on  April  11th,  he  said  : 

^  Lucien  Bonaparte,  '*  M^moires,**  vol.  il,  ch.  ix.  He  describes  Jose- 
phine's alarm  at  this  ill  omen  at  a  time  when  rumours  of  a  divorce  were 
rife. 


344  THE  LIFE  OV  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

'<  Irresolution  and  deliberation  are  no  longer  in  season.  I  renoanoe 
Louisiana.  It  is  not  only  New  Orleans  that  I  cede  :  it  is  the  whole 
colony,  without  reserve ;  I  know  the  price  of  what  I  abandon.  I  have 
proved  the  importance  I  attach  to  this  province,  since  my  first  diplo- 
matic act  with  Spain  had  the  object  of  recovering  it.  I  renounce  it 
with  the  greatest  regret :  to  attempt  obstinately  to  retain  it  would  be 
folly.    I  direct  you  to  negotiate  the  affair."  ^ 

After  some  haggling  with  Monroe,  the  price  agreed  on 
for  this  territory  was  60,000,000  francs,  the  United  States 
also  covenanting  to  satisfy  the  claims  which  many  of 
their  citizens  had  on  the  French  treasury.  For  this  paltry 
sum  the  United  States  gained  a  peaceful  title  to  the  debat- 
able lands  west  of  Lake  Erie  and  to  the  vast  tracts  west 
of  the  Mississippi.  The  First  Consul  carried  out  his 
threat  of  denying  to  the  deputies  of  France  any  voice  in 
this  barter.  The  war  with  England  sufficed  to  distract 
their  attention  ;  and  France  turned  sadly  away  from  the 
western  prairies,  which  her  hardy  sons  had  first  opened 
up,  to  fix  her  gaze,  first  on  the  Orient,  and  thereafter  on 
European  conquests.  No  more  was  heard  of  Louisiana, 
and  few  references  were  permitted  to  the  disasters  in  St. 
Domingo ;  for  Napoleon  abhorred  any  mention  of  a  coup 
manquS^  and  strove  to  banish  from  the  imagination  of 
France  those  dreams  of  a  trans-Atlantic  Empire  which 
had  drawn  him,  as  they  were  destined  sixty  years  later  to 
draw  his  nephew,  to  the  verge  of  war  with  the  rising 
republic  of  the  New  World.  In  one  respect,  the  uncle 
was  more  fortunate  than  the  nephew.  In  signing  the 
treaty  with  the  United  States,  the  First  Consul  could 
represent  his  conduct,  not  as  a  dextrous  retreat  from  an 
impossible  situation,  but  as  an  act  of  grace  to  the  Ameri- 
cans and  a  blow  to  England.  ^^This  accession  of  terri- 
tory," he  said,  "  strengthens  for  ever  the  power  of  the 
United  States,  and  I  have  just  given  to  England  a  mari- 
time rival  that  sooner  or  later  will  humble  her  pride."* 

In  the  East  there  seemed  to  be  scarcely  the  same  field 
for  expansion  as  in  the  western  hemisphere.     Yet,  as  the 

1  Barb^Marbois,  *'  Hist  de  Louisiana,**  quoted  by  H.  Adams,  op.  cit, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  27  ;  Rolofl,  »*  Napoleon's  Colonial  Politik." 

«  Garden,  **  Traits,"  vol.  vili.,  ch.  zzxiv.  See  too  Roederer,  "  GSuvres,'' 


XT  INDIA  345 

Orient  had  ever  fired  the  imagination  of  Napoleon,  he 
was  eager  to  expand  the  possessions  of  France  in  the 
Indian  Ocean.  In  October,  1801,  these  amounted  to  the 
Isle  of  Bourbon  and  the  Isle  of  France ;  for  the  former 
French  possessions  in  India,  namely,  Pondicherry,  Mahe, 
Karikal,  Chandernagore,  along  with  their  factories  at 
Yanaon,  Surat,  and  two  smaller  places,  had  been  seized 
by  the  British,  and  were  not  to  be  given  back  to  France 
until  six  months  after  the  definitive  treaty  of  peace  was 
signed.  From  these  scanty  relics  it  seemed  impossible 
to  rear  a  stable  fabric :  yet  the  First  Consul  grappled 
with  the  task.  After  the  cessation  of  hostilities,  he 
ordered  Admiral  Gantheaume  with  four  ships  of  war  to 
show  the  French  flag  in  those  seas,  and  to  be  ready  in 
due  course  to  take  over  the  French  settlements  in  India. 
Meanwhile  he  used  his  utmost  endeavours  in  the  negotia- 
tions at  Amiens  to  gain  an  accession  of  land  for  Pondi- 
cherry, sucb  as  would  make  it  a  possible  base  for  military 
enterprise.  Even  before  those  negotiations  began  he  ex- 
pressed to  Lord  Cornwallis  his  desire  for  such  an  exten- 
sion ;  and  when  the  British  plenipotentiary  urged  the 
cession  of  Tobago  to  Great  Britain,  he  offered  to  exchange 
it  for  an  establishment  or  territory  in  India.  ^  Herein  the 
First  Consul  committed  a  serious  tactical  blunder  ;  for  his 
insistence  on  this  topic  and  his  avowed  desire  to  negotiate 
direct  with  the  Nabob  undoubtedly  aroused  the  suspicions 
of  our  Government. 

Still  neater  must  have  been  their  concern  when  they 
learnt  that  General  Decaen  was  commissioned  to  receive 
back  the  French  possessions  in  India  ;  for  that  general  in 
1800  had  expressed  to  Bonaparte  his  hatred  of  the  English, 
and  had  begged,  even  if  he  had  to  wait  ten  years,  that  he 
might  be  sent  where  he  could  fight  them,  especially  in 
India.  As  was  his  wont,  Bonaparte  said  little  at  the  time ; 
but  after  testing  Decaen's  military  capacity,  he  called  him 
to  his  side  at  midsummer,  1802,  and  suddenly  asked  him 
if  he  still  thought  about  India.     On  receiving  an  eager 

vol.  ili.,  p.  461,  for  Napoleon's  expressions  after  dinner  on  January  11th, 
1803  :  **  Maudit  sucre,  maudlt  caf6,  maudites  colonies." 

^  Cornwallis,  **Coirespondenoe,'*  vol.  ill.,  despatch  of  December  3rd, 
1801. 


346  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  obap. 

affirmative,  he  said,  "Well,  you  will  go."  "In  what 
capacity  ?  "  "  As  captain-general :  go  to  the  Minister  of 
Marine  and  of  the  Colonies  and  ask  him  to  communicate 
to  you  the  documents  relating  to  this  expedition."  By 
such  means  did  Bonaparte  secure  devoted  servants.  It  is 
scarcely  needful  to  add  that  the  choice  of  such  a  man  only 
three  months  after  the  signature  of  the  Treaty  of  Amiens 
proves  that  the  First  Consul  only  intended  to  keep  that  peace 
as  long  as  his  forward  colonial  policy  rendered  it  desirable.^ 

Meanwhile  our  Governor-General,  Marquis  Wellesley, 
was  displaying  an  activity  which  might  seem  to  be  dic- 
tated by  knowledge  of  Bonaparte's  designs.  There  was, 
indeed,  every  need  of  vigour.  Nowhere  had  French  and 
British  interests  been  so  constantly  in  collision  as  in  India. 
In  1798  France  had  intrigued  with  Tippoo  Sahib  at  Ser- 
ingapatam,  and  arranged  a  treaty  for  the  purpose  of  ex- 
pelling the  British  nation  from  India.  When  in  1799 
French  hopes  were  dashed  bv  Arthur  Wellesley's  capture 
of  that  city  and  the  death  of  Tippoo,  there  still  remained 
some  prospect  of  overthrowing  British  supremacy  by  unit- 
ing the  restless  Mahratta  rulers  of  the  north  and  centre, 
especially  Scindiah  and  Holkar,  in  a  powerful  confederacy. 
For  some  years  their  armies,  numbering  some  60,000  men, 
had  been  drilled  and  equipped  by  French  adventurers, 
the  ablest  and  most  powerful  of  whom  was  M.  Perron. 
Doubtless  it  was  with  the  hope  of  gaining  their  support 
that  the  Czar  Paul  and  Bonaparte  had  in  1800  formed  the 
project  of  invading  India  by  way  of  Persia.  And  after 
the  dissipation  of  that  dream,  there  still  remained  the 
chance  of  strengthening  the  Mahratta  princes  so  as  to  con- 
test British  claims  with  every  hope  of  success.  Forewarned 
by  the  home  Government  of  Bonaparte's  eastern  designs, 
our  able  and  ambitious  Governor-General  now  prepared  to 
isolate  the  Mahratta  chieftains,  to  cut  them  off  from  all 
contact  with  France,  and,  if  necessary,  to  shatter  Scindiah^s 
army,  the  only  formidable  native  force  drilled  by  European 
methods. 

Such  was  the  position  of  affairs  when  General  Decaen 
undertook  the  enterprise  of  revivifying  French  influences 

^  See  the  valuable  articles  on  General  Decaen*8  papers  in  the  **  Revue 
historique  "  of  1879  and  of  1881. 


XT  INDIA  347 

in  India.  The  secret  instructions  which  he  received  from 
the  Firat  Consul,  dated  January  15th,  1803,  were  the  fol- 
lowiiig  : 

"  T6  communicate  with  the  peoples  or  princes  who  are  most  impa- 
tient under  the  yoke  of  the  Englisn  Company.  ...  To  send  home  a 
report,  six  months  after  his  arrival  in  India,  concerning  all  information 
that  he  shall  have  collected,  on  the  strength,  the  position,  and  the  feel- 
ing of  the  different  peoples  of  India,  as  well  as  on  the  strength  and 
position  of  the  different  English  establishments ;  .  .  .  his  views,  and 
nopes  that  he  might  have  of  finding  support,  in  case  of  war,  so  as  to 
be  able  to  maintain  himself  in  the  Penmsula.  .  .  .  Finally,  as  one 
must  reason  on  the  hypothesis  that  we  should  not  be  masters  of  the 
sea  and  could  hope  for  slight  succour," 

Decaen  is  to  seek  among  the  French  possessions  or  else- 
where a  place  serving  as  a  point  d'appuh  where  in  the  last 
resort  he  could  capitulate  and  thus  gain  the  means  of  being 
transported  to  France  with  arms  and  baggage.  Of  this 
point  cTappui  he  vdll 

''strive  to  take  possession  after  the  first  months  .  .  .  whatever  be 
the  nation  to  which  it  belongs,  Portuguese,  Dutch,  or  English.  .  .  . 
If  war  should  break  out  between  England  and  France  before  the  1st 
of  Yend^miaire,  Year  XIII.  (Septemoer  22nd,  1804),  and  the  captain- 
general  is  warned  of  it  before  receiving  the  orders  of  the  Government, 
he  has  carte  blanche  to  fall  back  on  the  lie  de  France  and  the  Cape,  or 
to  remain  in  India.  ...  It  is  now  considered  impossible  that  we 
should  have  war  with  England  without  dragging  in  Holland.  One  of 
the  first  cares  of  the  captain-^neral  will  be  to  gain  control  over  the 
Dutch,  Portuguese,  and  Spanish  establishments,  and  of  their  resources. 
The  captain-generaVs  mission  is  at  first  one  of  observation,  on  political 
and  military  topics,  with  the  small  forces  that  he  takes  out,  and  an 
occupation  of  compUnrs  for  our  commerce :  but  the  First  Consul,  if  well 
informed  by  him,  will  perhaps  be  able  some  day  to  put  him  in  a  posi- 
tion to  acquire  that  great  glorv  which  hands  down  the  memory  of  men 
beyond  the  lapse  of  centuries.   ^ 

Had  these  instructions  been  known  to  English  states- 
men, they  would  certainly  have  ended  the  peace  which 
was  being  thus  perfidiously  used  by  the  First  Consul  for 
the  destruction  of  our  Indian  Empire.  But  though  their 
suspicions  were  aroused  by  the  departure  of  Decaen's  ex- 
pedition and  by  the  activity  of  French  agents  in  India, 

1  Dumas'  *' Precis  des  £v6nement8  Militaires,''  vol.  xL,  p.  180.  The 
version  of  these  instructions  presented  by  Thiers,  book  xvi.,  is  utterly  mis- 
leading. 


848  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

yet  the  truth  remained  half  hidden,  until,  at  a  later  date, 
the  publication  of  General  Decaen's  papers  shed  a  flood  of 
light  on  Napoleon's  policy. 

Owing  to  various  causes,  the  expedition  did  not  set  sail 
from  Brest  until  the  beginning  of  March,  1803.  The  date 
should  be  noticed.  It  proves  that  at  this  time  Napoleon 
judged  that  a  rupture  of  peace  was  not  imminent;  and 
when  he  saw  his  miscalculation,  he  sought  to  delay  the 
war  with  England  as  long  as  possible  in  order  to  allow 
time  for  Decaen's  force  at  least  to  reach  the  Cape,  then 
in  the  hands  of  the  Dutch.  The  French  squadron  was  too 
weak  to  risk  a  fi^ht  with  an  English  fleet ;  it  comprised 
only  four  ships  of  war,  two  transports,  and  a  few  smaller 
vessels,  carrying  about  1,800  troops.  ^  The  ships  were  un- 
der the  command  of  Admiral  Linois,  who  was  destined  to 
be  the  terror  of  our  merchantmen  in  eastern  seas.  De- 
caen's  first  halt  was  at  the  Cape,  which  had  been  given 
back  by  us  to  the  Dutch  East  India  Company  on  Febru- 
ary 21st,  1803.  The  French  general  found  the  Dutch 
officials  in  their  usual  state  of  lethargy  :  the  fortifications 
had  not  been  repaired.,  and  many  of  the  inhabitants,  and 
even  of  the  officials  themselves,  says  Decaen,  were  devoted 
to  the  English.  After  surveying  the  place,  doubtless  with 
a  view  to  its  occupation  as  the  point  d'appui  hinted  at  in 
his  instructions,  he  set  sail  on  the  27th  of  May,  and  arrived 
before  Pondicherry  on  the  11th  of  July.* 

In  the  meantime  important  events  had  transpired  which 
served  to  wreck  not  only  Decaen's  enterprise,  but  the 
French  influence  in  India.  In  Europe  the  flames  of  war 
had  burst  forth,  a  fact  of  which  both  Decaen  and  the  Brit- 
ish officials  were  ignorant ;  but  the  Governor  of  Fort  St. 
George  (Madras),  having,  before  the  15th  of  June,  "  re- 
ceived intelligence  which  appeared  to  indicate  the  cer- 

1  Lord  Wbitworth,  our  ambassador  in  Paris,  stated  (despatch  of  March 
24th,  1803)  that  Decaen  was  to  be  quietly  reinforced  by  troops  in  French 
pay  sent  out  by  every  French,  Spanish,  or  Dutch  ship  going  to  India,  so 
as  to  avoid  attracting  notice.  ('*  England  and  Napoleon,*'  edited  by 
Oscar  Browning,  p.  137.) 

3  See  my  article,  **  The  French  East  India  Expedition  at  the  Cape,''  and 
unpublished  documents  in  the  **  £ng.  Hist.  Rev."  of  January,  1900. 
French  designs  on  the  Cape  strengthened  our  resolve  to  acquire  it,  as  we 
prepared  to  do  in  the  summer  of  1805. 


XT  INDIA  849 

tainty  of  an  early  renewal  of  hostilities  between  His 
Majesty  and  France,"  announced  that  he  must  postpone 
the  restitution  of  Pondicherry  to  the  French,  until  he 
should  have  the  authority  of  the  Governor-General  for 
such  action.^ 

The  Marquis  Wellesley  was  still  less  disposed  to  any 
such  restitution.  French  intervention  in  the  affairs  of 
Switzerland,  which  will  be  described  later  on,  had  so 
embittered  Anfflo-French  relations  that  on  October  the 
17th,  1802,  Lord  Hobart,  our  Minister  of  War  and  for  the 
Colonies,  despatched  a  ^^  most  secret  '^  despatch,  stating 
that  recent  events  rendered  it  necessary  to  postpone  this 
retrocession.  At  a  later  period  Wellesley  received  contrary 
orders,  instructing  him  to  restore  French  and  Dutch  terri- 
tories ;  but  he  judged  that  step  to  be  inopportune  consider- 
ing the  gravity  of  events  in  the  north  of  India.  So  active 
was  the  French  propaganda  at  the  Mahratta  Courts,  and 
so  threatening  were  their  armed  preparations,  that  he 
redoubled  his  efforts  for  the  consolidation  of  British 
supremacy.  He  resolved  to  strike  at  Scindiah,  unless  he 
withdrew  his  southern  army  into  his  own  territories  ;  and, 
on  receiving  an  evasive  answer  from  that  prince,  who 
hoped  by  temporizing  to  gain  armed  succours  from  France, 
he  launched  the  British  forces  against  him.  Now  was  the 
opportunity  for  Arthur  Wellesley  to  display  his  prowess 
against  the  finest  forces  of  the  East ;  and  brilliantly  did 
the  young  warrior  display  it.  The  victories  of  Assaye  in 
September,  and  of  Argaum  in  November,  scattered  the 
southern  Mahratta  force,  but  only  after  desperate  conflicts 
that  suggested  how  easily  a  couple  of  Decaen's  battalions 
might  have  turned  the  scales  of  war. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  north.  General  Lake  stormed  Ali- 
garh,  and  drove  Scindiah's  troops  back  to  Delhi.  Dis- 
gusted at  the  incapacity  and  perfidy  that  surrounded  him, 
Perron  threw  up  his  command ;  and  another  conflict  near 

1  Wellesley,  *'  Despatches,'*  vol.  iii.,  Appendix,  despatch  of  Augost  1st, 
1808.  See  too  Castlereagh's  **  Letters  and  Despatches,**  Second  Series, 
vol.  1.,  pp.  166-170,  for  Lord  Elgin's  papers  and  others,  all  of  1802,  de- 
scribing the  utter  weakness  of  Turkey,  the  probability  of  Egypt  falling  to 
any  in^er,  of  Caucasia  and  Persia  being  menaced  by  Russia,  and  the 
need  of  occupying  Aden  as  a  check  to  any  French  designs  on  India  from 
Suez. 


360  THE   LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Delhi  yielded  that  ancient  seat  of  Empire  to  our  trading 
company.  In  three  months  the  results  of  the  toil  of 
Scindiah,  the  restless  ambition  of  Holkar,  the  training  of 
European  officers,  and  the  secret  intrigues  of  Napoleon, 
were  all  swept  to  the  winds.  Wellesley  now  annexed  the 
land  around  Delhi  and  Agra,  besides  certain  coast  districts 
which  cut  off  the  Mahrattas  from  the  sea,  also  stipulating 
for  the  complete  exclusion  of  French  agents  from  their 
States.  Perron  was  allowed  to  return  to  France ;  and  the 
brusque  reception  accorded  him  from  Bonaparte  may  serve 
to  measure  the  height  of  the  First  Consul's  hopes,  the 
depth  of  his  disappointment,  and  his  resentment  against 
a  man  who  was  daunted  by  a  single  disaster.^ 

Meanwhile  it  was  the  lot  of  Decaen  to  witness,  in 
inglorious  inactivity,  the  overthrow  of  all  his  hopes. 
Indeed,  he  barely  escaped  the  capture  which  Wellesley 
designed  for  his  whole  force,  as  soon  as  he  should  hear  of 
the  outbreak  of  war  in  Europe ;  but  by  secret  and  skilful 
measures  all  the  French  ships,  except  one  transport, 
escaped  to  their  appointed  rendezvous,  the  He  do  France. 
Enraged  by  these  events,  Decaen  and  Linois  determined 
to  inflict  every  possible  injury  on  their  foes.  The  latter 
soon  swept  from  the  eastern  seas  British  merchantmen 
valued  at  a  million  sterling,  while  the  general  ceased  not 
to  send  emissaries  into  India  to  encourage  the  millions  of 
natives  to  shake  off  the  yoke  of  "  a  few  thousand  English." 

These  officers  effected  little,  and  some  of  them  were 
handed  over  to  the  English  authorities  by  the  now  obse- 
quious potentates.  Decaen  also  endeavoured  to  carry  out 
the  First  Consul's  design  of  occupying  strategic  points  in 
the  Indian  Ocean.  In  the  autumn  of  1803  he  sent  a  fine 
cruiser  to  the  Imaum  of  Muscat,  to  induce  him  to  cede 
a  station  for  commercial  purposes  at  that  port.  But 
Wellesley,  forewarned  by  our  agent  at  Bagdad,  had  made 
a  firm  alliance  with  the  Imaum,  who  accordingly  refused 

1  Wellefiley*8  despatch  of  July  13th,  1804:  with  it  he  inclosed  an 
intercepted  despatch,  dated  Pondicheny,  August  6th,  1803,  a  ^^M^moire 
BUT  1*  Importance  actuelle  de  Plnde  et  les  moyens  les  plus  efficaces  d*y 
r^tablir  la  Nation  Fran9aise  dans  son  ancienne  splendeur.*'  The  writer. 
Lieutenant  Lefebyre,  set  forth  the  unpopularity  of  the  British  in  India 
and  the  immense  wealth  which  France  could  gain  from  its  conquest. 


XV  AUSTBALIA  361 

the  request  of  the  French  captain.  The  incident,  however, 
supplies  another  link  in  the  chain  of  evidence  as  to  the 
completeness  of  Napoleon's  oriental  policy,  and  yields 
another  proof  of  the  vigour  of  our  great  proconsul  at  Cal- 
cutta, by  whose  foresight  our  Indian  Empire  was  preserved 
and  strengthened.^ 

Bonaparte's  enterprises  were  by  no  means  limited  to 
well-known  lands.  The  unknown  continent  of  the  South- 
ern Seas  appealed  to  his  imagination,  which  pictured  its 
solitudes  transformed  by  French  energy  into  a  second 
fatherland.  Australia,  or  New  Holland,  as  it  was  then 
called,  had  long  attracted  the  notice  of  French  explorers, 
but  the  English  penal  settlements  at  and  near  Sydney 
formed  the  only  European  establishment  on  the  great 
southern  island  at  the  dawn  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Bonaparte  early  turned  his  eyes  towards  that  land. 
On  his  voyage  to  Egypt  he  took  with  him  the  volumes 
in  which  Captain  Cook  described  his  famous  discoveries ; 
and  no  sooner  was  he  firmly  installed  as  First  Consul  than 
he  planned  with  the  Institute  of  France  a  great  French 
expedition  to  New  Holland.  The  full  text  of  the  plan 
has  never  been  published :  probably  it  was  suppressed 
or  destroyed ;  and  the  sole  public  record  relating  to  it 
is  contained  in  the  official  account  of  the  expedition 
published  at  the  French  Imperial  Press  in  1807.^  Ac- 
cording to  this  description,  the  aim  was  solely  geographi- 
cal and  scientific.  The  First  Consul  and  the  Institute  of 
France  desired  that  the  ships  should  proceed  to  Van 
Diemen's  Land,  explore  its  rivers,  and  then  complete 
the  survey  of  the  south  coast  of  the  continent,  so  as  to 
see  whether  behind  the  islands  of  the  Nuyts  Archipelago 
there  might  be  a  channel  connecting  with  the  Gulf  of 
Carpentaria,  and  so  cutting  New  Holland  in  half.  They 
were  then  to  sail  west  to  "Terre  Leeuwin,"  ascend  the 
Swan   River,   complete   the  exploration  of  Shark's  Bay 

1  The  report  of  the  Imaum  is  given  in  Castlereagh^s  **  Letters,"  Second 
Series,  vol.  i.,  p.  203. 

3  **  Voyage  de  D^ouverte  aux  Terres  Australes  sur  les  Corvettes,  le 
G^ographe  et  le  Naturaliste,"  r^dig^  par  M.  F.  P6ron  (Paris,  1807-16). 
From  the  Atlas  the  accompanying  map  has  been  copied. 


853  THE  LIFB  OF  NAPOLEON  I  grjlp. 

and  the  north-western  coasts,  and  winter  in  Timor  or 
Amboyne.  Finally,  they  were  to  coast  along  New  Guinea 
and  the  Gulf  of  Carpentaria,  and  return  to  France  in  1803. 

In  September,  1800,  the  ships,  having  on  board  twenty- 
three  scientific  men,  set  sail  from  Havre  under  the 
command  of  Commodore  Baudin.  They  received  no 
molestation  from  English  cruisers,  it  being  a  rule  of 
honour  to  give  Admiralty  permits  to  all  members  of  genu- 
inely scientific  and  geographical  parties.  Nevertheless, 
even  on  its  scientific  side,  this  splendidly-equipped  expe- 
dition produced  no  results  comparable  with  those  achieved 
by  Lieutenant  Bass  or  by  Captain  Flinders.  The  French 
ships  touched  at  the  He  de  France,  and  sailed  thence  for 
Van  Diemen's  Land.  After  spending  a  long  time  in  the 
exploration  of  its  coasts  and  in  collecting  scientific  infor- 
mation, they  made  for  Sydney  in  order  to  repair  their  ships 
and  gain  relief  for  their  many  invalids.  Thence,  after 
incidents  which  will  be  noticed  presently,  they  set  sail  in 
November,  1802,  for  Bass  Strait  and  the  coast  beyond. 
They  seem  to  have  overlooked  the  entrance  to  Port 
Phillip  —  a  discovery  effected  by  Murray  in  1801,  but  not 
made  public  till  three  years  later  —  and  failed  to  notice 
the  outlet  of  the  chief  Australian  river,  which  is  obscured 
by  a  shallow  lake. 

There  they  were  met  by  Captain  Flinders,  who,  on 
H.M.S.  ^^Investigator,"  had  been  exploring  the  coast 
between  Cape  Leeuwin  and  the  great  gulfs  which  he 
named  after  Lords  St.  Vincent  and  Spencer.  Flinders 
was  returning  towards  Sydney,  when,  in  the  long  desolate 
curve  of  the  bay  which  he  named  from  the  incident 
Encounter  Bay,  he  saw  the  French  ships.  After  brief 
and  guarded  intercourse  the  explorers  separated,  the 
French  proceeding  to  survey  the  gulfs  whence  the  "  In- 
vestigator"  had  just  sailed  ;  while  Flinders,  after  a  short 
stay  at  Sydney  and  the  exploration  of  the  northern  coast 
and  Torres  Strait,  set  out  for  Europe.^ 

1  His  later  mishaps  may  here  be  briefly  reeoanted.  Being  compelled 
to  touch  at  the  He  de  France  for  repairs  to  his  ship,  he  was  there  seized 
and  detained  as  a  spy  by  General  Decaen,  until  the  chivalrons  interces- 
sion of  the  French  explorer,  Bougainville,  finally  availed  to  procure  his 
release  in  the  year  1810.    The  conduct  of  Decaen  was  the  more  odious, 


,    AS   SHOWN    IN    THE   CAK 
Piiblishtd  ill  Ihe  Atlas 


1 

f 

1 

\ 

\ 

1 

t 

1 

« 

< 

.  t 

^ 

-     «k4 

::S^^RALE    DE    LA    NOUVELLE    HOLLANDE,    1807 
,ri,  Le  Soeur  and  Petit. 


XT  AUSTRALIA  853 

Apart  from  the  compilation  of  the  most  accurate  map 
of  Australia  which  had  then  appeared,  and  the  naming  of 
several  features  on  its  coasts  —  e.g.^  Capes  Berrouilii  and 
Grantheaume,  the  Bays  of  Rivoli  and  of  Lacepede,  and 
the  Freycinet  Peninsula,  which  are  still  retained  —  the 
French  expedition  achieved  no  geographical  results  of  the 
first  importance. 

Its  political  aims  now  claim  attention.  A  glance  at 
the  accompanying  map  will  show  that,  under  the  guise  of 
bemg  an  emissary  of  civilization,  Commodore  Baudin  was 
prepared  to  claim  half  the  continent  for  France.  Indeed, 
his  final  inquiry  at  Sydney  about  the  extent  of  the  British 
claims  on  the  Pacific  coast  was  so  significant  as  to  elicit 
from  Governor  King  the  reply  that  the  whole  of  Van 
Diemen's  Land  and  of  the  coast  from  Cape  Howe  on  the 
south  of  the  mainland  to  Cape  York  on  the  north  was 
British  territory.  King  also  notified  the  suspicious  action 
of  the  French  Commander  to  the  Home  Government; 
and  when  the  French  sailed  away  to  explore  the  coast  of 
Southern  and  Central  Australia,  he  sent  a  ship  to  watch 
their  proceedings.  When,  therefore.  Commodore  Baudin 
effected  a  landing  on  King  Island,  the  Union  Jack  was 
speedily  hoisted  and  saluted  by  the  blue-jackets  of  the 
British  vessel ;  for  it  was  rumoured  that  French  ofScers 
had ^ said  that  Kin?  Island  would  afford  a  good  station 
for  the  command  of  Bass  Strait  and  the  seizure  of  British 
ships.  This  was  probably  mere  gossip.  Baudin  in  his 
interviews  with  Governor  King  at  Sydney  disclaimed  any 

as  the  French  crews  during  their  stay  at  Sydney  in  the  autamn  of  1802, 
when  the  news  of  the  Peace  of  Amiens  was  as  yet  unknown,  had  received 
not  only  much  help  in  the  repair  of  their  ships,  hut  most  generous  per- 
sonal attentions,  officials  and  private  persons  at  Sydney  agreeing  to  put 
themselves  on  short  rations  in  that  season  of  dearth  in  order  that  the 
explorers  might  have  food.  Though  this  fact  was  brought  to  Decaen's 
knowledge  by  the  brother  of  Commodore  Baudin,  he  none  the  less  re- 
fused to  acknowledge  the  validity  of  the  passport  which  Flinders,  as  a 
geo^rraphical  explorer,  had  received  from  the  French  authorities,  but  de- 
tained  him  in  captivity  for  seven  years.  For  the  details  see  *'  A  Voyage 
of  Discovery  to  the  Australian  Isles, *^  by  Captain  Flhiders  (London, 
1814),  vol.  ii.,  chs.  vii.-ix.  The  names  given  by  Flinders  on  the  coasts 
of  Western  and  South  Australia  have  been  retained  owing  to  the 
priority  of  his  investigation :  but  the  French  names  have  been  kept  on 
the  coast  between  the  mouth  of  the  If unay  and  Bass  Strait  for  the  same 
reason. 

2a 


854  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  cbulp. 

InteDtion  of  seizing  Van  Diemen's  Land ;  but  he  after- 
wards stated  that  lie  did  not  know  what  were  the  plans  of 
the  French  Q-ovemment  with  regard  to  that  island  A 

Long  before  this  dark  saving  could  be  known  at  West- 
minster, the  suspicions  oi  our  Government  had  been 
aroused ;  and,  on  February  13th,  1803,  Lord  Hobart  penned 
a  despatch  to  Governor  King  bidding  him  to  take  every 
precaution  against  French  annexations,  and  to  form  settle- 
ments in  Van  Diemen's  Land  and  at  Port  Phillip.  The 
station  of  Risden  was  accordingly  planted  on  the  estuary 
of  the  Derwent,  a  little  above  the  present  town  of  Hobart ; 
while  on  the  shores  of  Port  Phillip  another  expedition  sent 
out  from  the  mothpr  country  sought,  but  for  the  present 
in  vain,  to  find  a  suitable  site.  The  French  cruise  there- 
fore exerted  on  the  fortunes  of  the  English  and  French 
peoples  an  influence  such  as  has  frequently  accrued  from 
their  colonial  rivalry :  it  spurred  on  the  island  Power  to 
more  vigorous  efforts  than  she  would  otherwise  have  put 
forth,  and  led  to  the  discomfiture  of  her  continental  rival. 
The  plans  of  Napoleon  for  the  acquisition  of  Van  Diemen's 
Land  and  the  middle  of  Australia  had  an  effect  like  that 
which  the  ambition  of  Montcalm,  Dupleix,  Lally,  and 
Perron  has  exerted  on  the  ultimate  destiny  of  many  a 
vast  and  fertile  territory. 

Still,  in  spite  of  the  destruction  of  his  fleet  at  Trafal- 
gar, Napoleon  held  to  his  Australian  plans.  No  fact,  per- 
haps, is  more  suggestive  of  the  dogged  tenacity  of  his 
will  than  his  order  to  Peron  and  Freycinet  to  publish 
through  the  Imperial  Press  at  Paris  an  exhaustive  account 
of  their  Australian  voyage,  accompanied  by  maps  which 
claimed  half  of  that  continent  for  the  tricolour  flag.  It 
appeared  in  1807,  the  year  of  Tilsit  and  of  the  plans  for 
the  partition  of  Portugal  and  her  colonies  between  France 
and  Spain.  The  hour  seemed  at  last  to  have  struck  for 
the  assertion  of  French  supremacy  in  other  continents, 
now  that  the  Franco- Russian  alliance  had  durably  consoli- 
dated it  in  Europe.     And  who  shall  say  that,  but  for  the 

^  See  Baudin's  letter  to  King  of  December  28rd,  1S08,  in  voL  y. 
(Appendix^  of  **  Historical  Records  of  New  South  Wales/*  and  the  other 
important  letters  and  despatches  contained  there,  as  also  ibid,^  pp.  133 
and  376. 


XY  A  FRENCH  COLONIAL  EMPIBE  356 

Spanish  Rising  and  the  genius  of  Wellington,  a  vast 
colonial  enfpire  might  not  have  been  won  for  France,  had 
Napoleon  been  free  to  divert  his  energies  away  from  this 
"  old  Europe  "  of  which  he  professed  to  be  utterly  weary  ? 

His  whole  attitude  towards  European  and  colonial  poli- 
tics revealed  a  statesmanlike  appreciation  of  the  forces 
that  were  to  mould  the  fortunes  of  nations  in  the  nine- 
teenth century.  He  saw  that  no  rearrangement  of  the 
European  peoples  could  be  permanent.  They  were  too 
stubborn,  too  solidly  nationalized,  to  bear  the  yoke  of  the 
new  Charlemagne.  ^'  I  am  come  too  late,"  he  once 
exclaimed  to  Marmont ;  ^^  men  are  too  enlightened,  there 
is  nothing  great  left  to  be  done."  These  words  reveal  his 
sense  of  the  artificiality  of  his  European  conquests.  His 
imperial  instincts  could  find  complete  satisfaction  only 
among  the  docile  fate-ridden  peoples  of  Asia,  where 
he  might  unite  the  functions  of  an  Alexander  and  a 
Mahomet :  or,  failing  that,  he  would  carve  out  an  empire 
from  the  vast  southern  lands,  organizing  them  by  his 
unresting  powers  and  ruling  them  as  oekist  and  as  despot. 
This  task  would  possess  a  permanence  such  as  man's  con- 
quests over  Nature  may  always  enjoy,  and  his  triumphs 
over  his  fellows  seldom  or  never.  The  political  recon- 
struction of  Europe  was  at  best  one  of  an  infinite  number 
.  of  such  changes,  always  progressing  and  never  completed ; 
while  the  peopling  of  new  lands  and  the  founding  of  States 
belonged  to  that  highest  plane  of  political  achievement 
wherein  schemes  of  social  beneficence  and  the  dictates  of 
a  boundless  ambition  could  maintain  an  eager  and  unend- 
ing rivalry.  While  a  strictly  European  policy  could  effect 
little  more  than  a  raking  over  of  long-cultivated  parterres, 
the  foundation  of  a  new  colonial  empire  would  be  the  turn- 
ing up  of  the  virgin  soil  of  the  limitless  prairie. 

If  we  inquire  by  the  light  of  history  why  these  grand 
designs  failed,  the  answer  must  be  that  they  were  too  vast 
fitly  to  consort  with  an  ambitious  European  policy.  His 
ablest  adviser  noted  this  fundamental  defect  as  rapidly 
developing  after  the  Peace  of  Amiens,  when  "he  began  to 
sow  the  seeds  of  new  wars  which,  after  overwhelming 
Europe  and  France,  were  to  lead  him  to  his  ruin."  This 
criticism  of  Talleyrand  on  a  man  far  greater  than  himself, 


366  THE  LIFB  OF  NAPOLEON  I  CBiiP.  xt 

but  who  lacked  that  saving  grace  of  moderation  in  which 
the  diplomatist  excelled,  is  consonant  with  all  the  teach- 
ings of  history.  The  fortunes  of  the  colonial  empires  of 
Athens  and  Carthage  in  the  ancient  world,  of  the  Italian 
maritime  republics,  of  Portugal  and  Spain,  and,  above  all, 
the  failure  of  the  projects  of  Louis  XIV.  and  Louis  XV., 
serve  to  prove  that  only  as  the  motherland  enjoys  a  suffi- 
ciency of  peace  at  home  and  on  her  borders  can  she  send 
forth  in  ceaseless  flow  those  supplies  of  men  and  treasure 
which  are  the  very  life-blood  of  a  new  organism.  That 
beneficent  stream  might  have  poured  into  Napoleon's 
Colonial  Empire,  had  not  other  claims  diverted  it  into  the 
barren  channels  of  European  warfare.  The  same  result 
followed  as  at  the  time  of  the  Seven  Years'  War,  when 
the  double  effort  to  wage  great  campaigns  in  Germany  and 
across  the  oceans  sapped  the  strength  of  France,  and  the 
additions  won  by  Dupleiz  and  Montcalm  fell  away  from 
her  flaccid  frame. 

Did  Napoleon  foresee  a  similar  result  ?  His  conduct  in 
regard  to  Louisiana  and  in  reference  to  Decaen's  expedi- 
tion proves  that  he  did,  but  only  when  it  was  too  late. 
As  soon  as  he  saw  that  his  policy  was  about  to  provoke 
another  war  with  Britain  long  before  he  was  ready  for  it, 
he  decided  to  forego  his  oceanic  schemes  and  to  concen- 
trate his  forces  on  his  European  frontiers.  The  decision 
was  dictated  by  a  true  sense  of  imperial  strategy.  But 
what  shall  we  say  of  his  sense  of  imperial  diplomacy  ? 
The  foregoing  narrative  and  the  events  to  be  described  in 
the  next  chapters  prove  that  his  mistake  lay  in  that  over- 
weening belief  in  his  own  powers  and  in  the  pliability  of 
his  enemies  which  was  the  cause  of  his  grandest  triumphs 
and  of  his  unexampled  overthrow. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

NAPOLEON'S  INTERVENTIONS 

War,  said  St.  Augustine,  is  but  the  transition  from  a 
lower  to  a  higher  state  of  peace.  The  saying  is  certainly- 
true  for  those  wars  that  are  waged  in  defence  of  some 
great  principle  or  righteous  cause.  It  may  perhaps  be 
applied  with  justice  to  the  early  struggles  of  the  French 
revolutionists  to  secure  their  democratic  Government 
against  the  threatened  intervention  of  monarchical  States. 
But  the  danger  of  vindicating  the  cause  of  freedom  by 
armed  force  has  never  been  more  glaringly  shown  than 
in  the  struggles  of  that  volcanic  age.  When  democracy 
had  gained  a  sure  foothold  in  the  European  system, 
the  war  was  still  pushed  on  by  the  triumphant  repub- 
licans at  the  expense  of  neighbouring  States,  so  that,  even 
before  the  advent  of  Bonaparte,  their  polity  was  being 
strangely  warped  by  the  influence  of  military  methods 
of  rule.  The  brilliance  of  the  triumphs  won  by  that 
young  warrior  speedily  became  the  greatest  danger  of 
republican  France ;  and  as  the  extraordinary  energy 
developed  in  her  people  by  recent  events  cast  her  feeble 
neighbours  to  the  ground,  Europe  cowered  away  before 
the  ever-increasing  bulk  of  France.  In  their  struggles 
after  democracy  the  French  finally  reverted  to  the  military 
type  of  Government,  which  accords  with  many  of  the 
cherished  instincts  of  their  race :  and  the  military-demo- 
cratic compromise  embodied  in  Napoleon  endowed  that 
people  with  the  twofold  force  of  national  pride  and  of 
conscious  strength  springing  from  their  new  institutions. 

With  this  was  mingled  contempt  for  neighbouring 
peoples  who  either  could  not  or  would  not  gain  a  similar 
independence  and  prestige.  Everything  helped  to  feed 
this  self-confidence  and  contempt  for  others.  The  vener- 
able fabric  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  was  rocking  to 

367 


868  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

and  fro  amidst  the  spoliations  of  its  ecclesiastical  lands 
by  lay  princes,  in  which  its  former  champions,  the  Houses 
of  Hapsburg  and  Hohenzollern,  were  the  most  exacting 
of  the  claimants.  The  Czar,  in  October,  1801,  had  come 
to  a  profitable  understanding  with  France  concerning  these 
^^  secularizations.'"  A  little  later  France  and  Russia  be- 
gan to  draw  together  on  the  Eastern  Question  in  a  way 
threatening  to  Turkey  and  to  British  influence  in  the 
Levant.^  In  fact,  French  diplomacy  used  the  partition 
of  the  Geiman  ecclesiastical  lands  and  the  threatened 
collapse  of  the  Ottoman  power  as  a  potent  means  of 
busyiilg  the  Continental  States  and  leaving  Great  Britain 
isolated.  Moreover,  the  great  island  State  was  passing 
through  ministerial  and  financial  difficulties  which  robbed 
her  of  all  the  fruits  of  her  naval  triumphs  and  made  her 
diplomacy  at  Amiens  the  laughing-stock  of  the  world. 
When  monarchical  ideas  were  thus  discredited,  it  was 
idle  to  expect  peace.  The  struggling  upwards  towards  a 
higher  plane  had  indeed  begun  ;  democracy  had  effected 
a  lodgment  in  Western  Europe  ;  but  the  old  order  in  its 
bewildered  gropings  after  some  sure  basis  had  not  yet 
touched  bottom  on  that  rock  of  nationality  wliich  was  to 
yield  a  new  foundation  for  monarchy  amidst  the  strifes 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  Only  when  the  monarchs 
received  the  support  of  their  French-hating  subjects 
could  an  equilibrium  of  force  and  of  enthusiasms  yield 
the  long-sought  opportunity  for  a  durable  peace.* 

^  Mr.  Merry's  ciphered  despatch  from  Paris,  May  7th,  1802. 

'  It  is  impossible  to  enter  into  the  complicated  question  of  the  recon- 
straction  of  Germany  effected  in  1802-3.  A  general  agreement  had  been 
made  at  Rastadt  that,  as  an  indemnity  for  the  losses  of  German  States  in 
the  conquest  of  the  Rhineland  by  France,  they  should  receive  the  eccle- 
siastical lands  of  the  old  Empire.  The  Imperial  Diet  appointed  a  delega- 
tion to  consider  the  whole  question  ;  but  before  Uiis  body  assembled  (on 
August  24th,  1802),  a  number  of  treaties  had  been  secretly  made  at  Paris, 
with  the  approval  of  Russia,  which  favoured  Prussia  and  depressed  Aus- 
tria. Austria  received  the  archbishoprics  of  Trent  and  Brixen :  while  her 
Archdukes  (formerly  of  Tuscany  and  Modena)  were  installed  in  Salz- 
burg and  Breisgau.  Prussia,  as  the  protegS  of  France,  gained  Hildesheim, 
Paderbom,  Erfurt,  the  city  of  Mtlnster,  etc.  Bavaria  received  Wttrzbuig, 
Bamberg,  Augsburg,  Passau,  etc.  See  Garden,  **  Trait6s,"  vol.  vii.,  ch. 
zxxii. ;  *' Annual  Register"  of  1802,  pp.  648-665;  Oncken,  *'Consulat 
und  Kaiserthum,'*  voL  ii. :  and  Beer^s  *.*  Zehn  Jahre  Oesterreichischer 
Politik." 


xn  NAPOLEON'S  INTERVENTIONS  860 

The  negotiations  at  Amiens  had  amply  shown  the  great 
difficulty  of  the  readjustment  of  European  affairs.  If  our 
Ministers  had  manifested  their  real  feelings  about  Napo- 
leon's presidency  of  the  Italian  Republic,  war  would  cer- 
tainly have  broken  forth.  But,  as  has  been  seen,  they 
preferred  to  assume  the  attitude  of  the  ostrich,  the  worst 
possible  device  both  for  the  welfare  of  Europe  and  the 
interests  of  Great  Britain ;  for  it  convinced  Napoleon 
that  he  could  safely  venture  on  other  interventions  ;  and 
this  he  proceeded  to  do  in  the  affairs  of  Italy,  Holland, 
and  Switzerland. 

On  September  21st,  1802,  appeared  a  sencUiis  consultum 
ordering  the  incorporation  of  Piedmont  in  France.  This 
important  territory,  lessened  by  the  annexation  of  its 
eastern  parts  to  the  Italian  Republic,  had  for  five  months 
been  provisionally  administered  by  a  French  general  as  a 
military  district  of  France.  Its  definite  incorporation  in 
the  great  Republic  now  put  an  end  to  all  hopes  of  restora- 
tion of  the  House  of  Savoy.  For  the  King  of  Sardinia, 
now  an  exile  in  his  island,  the  British  Ministry  had  made 
some  efforts  at  Amiens ;  but,  as  it  knew  that  the  Czar  and 
the  First  Consul  had  agreed  on  offering  him  some  suitable 
indemnity,  the  hope  was  cherished  that  the  new  sovereign, 
Victor  Emmanuel  I.,  would  be  restored  to  his  mainland 
possessions.  That  hope  was  now  at  an  end.  In  vain  did 
Lord  Whitworth,  our  ambassador  at  Paris,  seek  to  help  the 
Russian  envoy  to  gain  a  fit  indemnity.  Sienna  and  its 
lands  were  named,  as  if  in  derision ;  and  though  George 
III.  and  the  Czar  ceased  not  to  press  the  claims  of  the 
House  of  Savoy,  yet  no  more  tempting  offer  came  from 
Paris,  except  a  hint  that  some  part  of  European  Turkey 
might  be  found  for  him ;  and  the  young  ruler  nobly  re- 
fused to  barter  for  the  petty  Siennese,  or  for  some  Turkish 
pachalic,  his  birthright  to  the  lands  which,  under  a  happier 
Victor  Emmanuel,  were  to  form  the  nucleus  of  a  United 
Italy .^  A  month  after  the  absorption  of  Piedmont  came 
the  annexation  of  Parma.  The  heir  to  that  duchy,  who 
was  son-in-law  to  the  King  of  Spain,  had  been  raised  to 
the  dignity  of  King  of  Etruria ;  and  in  return  for  this 

^The  British  notes  of  April  28tli  and  May  8th,  1803,  again  demanded 
a  suitable  indemnity  for  the  King  of  Sardinia, 


aeO  THE  UFB  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

aggrandizement  in  Europe,  Charles  IV.  bartered  away 
to  France  the  whole  oi  Louisiana.  Nevertheless,  the 
First  Consul  kept  his  troops  in  Parma,  and  on  the  death 
of  the  old  duke  in  October,  1802,  Parma  and  its  depen- 
dencies were  incorporated  in  the  French  Republic. 

The  naval  supremacy  of  France  in  the  Mediterranean 
was  also  secured  by  the  annexation  of  the  Isle  of  Elba 
with  its  excellent  harbour  of  Porto  Ferrajo.  Three 
deputies  from  Elba  came  to  Paris  to  pay  their  respects 
to  their  new  ruler.  The  Minister  of  War  was  thereupon 
charged  to  treat  them  with  every  courtesy,  to  entertain 
them  at  dinner,  to  give  them  3,000  francs  apiece,  and 
to  hint  that  on  their  presentation  to  Bonaparte  they 
might  make  a  short  speech  expressing  the  pleasure  of 
their  people  at  being  united  with  France.  By  such  deft 
rehearsals  did  this  master  in  the  art  of  scenic  displays 
weld  Elba  on  to  France  and  France  to  himself. 

Even  more  important  was  Bonaparte's  intervention  in 
Switzerland.  The  condition  of  that  land  calls  for  some 
explanation.  For  wellnigh  three  centuries  the  Switzers 
had  been  grouped  in  thirteen  cantons,  which  differed 
widely  in  character  and  constitution.  The  Central  or 
Forest  Cantons  still  retained  the  old  Teutonic  custom  of 
regulating  their  affairs  in  their  several  folk-moots,  at 
which  every  householder  appeared  fully  armed.  Else- 
where the  confederation  had  developed  less  admirable 
customs,  and  the  richer  lowlands  especially  were  under 
the  hereditary  control  of  rich  burgher  families.  There 
was  no  constitution  binding  these  States  in  any  effective 
union.  Each  of  the  cantons  claimed  a  governmental 
sovereignty  that  was  scarcely  impaired  by  the  delibera- 
tions of  the  Federal  Diet.  Besides  these  sovereign 
States  were  others  that  held  an  ill-defined  position  as 
allies ;  among  these  were  Geneva,  Basel,  Bienne,  Saint 
Gall,  the  old  imperial  city  of  Miihlhausen  in  Alsace, 
the  three  Grisons,  the  principality  of  Neufchatel,  and 
Valais  on  the  Upper  Rhone.  Last  came  the  subject- 
lands,  Aargau,  Thurgau,  Ticino,  Vaud,  and  others,  which 
were  governed  in  various  degrees  of  strictness  by  their 
cantonal  overlords.  Such  was  the  old  Swiss  Confeder- 
acy:   it    somewhat  resembled   that  chaotic   Macedonian 


XYi  NAPOLEON'S  INTBBVENTIONS  861 

league  of  mountain  clans,  plain-dwellers,  and  cities,  which 
was  so  profoundly  influenced  by  the  infiltration  of  Greek 
ideas  and  by  the  masterful  genius  of  Philip.  Switzerland 
was  likewise  to  be  shaken  by  a  new  political  influence, 
and  thereafter  to  be  controlled  by  the  greatest  statesman 
of  the  age. 

On  this  motley  group  of  cantons  and  districts  the 
French  Revolution  exerted  a  powerful  influence ;  and 
when,  in  1798,  the  people  of  Vaud  strove  to  throw  off 
the  yoke  of  Berne,  French  troops,  on  the  invitation  of 
the  insurgents,  invaded  Switzerland,  quelled  the  brave 
resistance  of  the  central  cantons,  and  ransacked  the  chief 
of  the  Swiss  treasuries.  After  the  plunderers  came  the 
constitution-mongers,  who  forthwith  forced  on  Switzer- 
land democracy  of  the  most  French  and  geometrical  type  : 
all  differences  between  the  sovereign  cantons,  allies, 
and  subject-lands  were  swept  away,  and  Helvetia  was 
constituted  as  an  indivisible  republic — except  Valais, 
which  was  to  be  independent,  and  Geneva  and  Miihl- 
hausen,  which  were  absorbed  by  France.  The  subject 
districts  and  non-privileged  classes  benefited  considerably 
by  the  social  reforms  introduced  under  French  influence  ; 
but  a  constitution  recklessly  transferred  from  Paris  to 
Berne  could  only  provoke  loathing  among  a  people  that 
never  before  had  submitted  to  foreign  dictation.  More- 
over, the  new  order  of  things  violated  the  most  elementary 
needs  of  the  Swiss,  whose  racial  and  religious  instincts 
claimed  freedom  of  action  for  each  district  or  canton. 

Of  these  deep-seated  feelings  the  oligarchs  of  the  plains, 
no  less  than  the  democrats  of  the  Forest  Cantons,  were 
now  the  champions;  while  the  partisans  of  the  new- 
fangled democracy  were  held  up  to  scorn  as  the  sup- 
porters of  a  cast-iron  centralization.  It  soon  became 
clear  that  the  constitution  of  1798  could  be  perpetuated 
only  by  the  support  of  the  French  troops  quartered  on 
that  unhappy  land ;  for  throughout  the  years  1800  and 
1801  the  political  see-saw  tilted  every  few  months,  first 
in  favour  of  the  oligarchic  or  federal  party,  then  again 
towards  their  unionist  opponents.  After  the  Peace  of 
Luneville,  which  recognized  the  right  of  the  Swiss  to 
adopt  what  form  of  government  they  thought  fit,  some 


362  'raE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chat. 

of  their  deputies  travelled  to  Paris  with  the  draft  of  a 
constitution  lately  drawn  up  by  the  Chamber  at  Berne, 
in  the  hope  of  gaining  the  assent  of  the  First  Consul  to 
its  provisions  and  the  withdrawal  of  French  troops.  They 
had  every  reason  for  hope:  the  party  then  in  power  at 
Berne  was  that  which  favoured  a  centralized  democracy, 
and  their  plenipotentiary  in  Paris,  a  thorough  republican 
named  Stapfer,  had  been  led  to  hope  that  Switzerland 
would  now  be  allowed  to  carve  out  its  own  destiny. 
What,  then,  was  his  surprise  to  find  the  First  Consul 
increasingly  enamoured  of  federalism.  The  letters  writ- 
ten by.  Stapfer  to  the  Swiss  Government  at  this  time  are 
highly  instructive.^ 

On  March  10th,  1801,  he  wrote  : 

'*What  torments  us  most  is  the  cruel  unoertainty  as  to  the  real 
aims  of  the  French  Grovemment.  Does  it  want  to  federalize  us  in 
order  to  weaken  us  and  to  rule  more  surely  by  our  divisions :  or  does 
it  really  desire  our  independence  and  welfare,  and  is  its  dela^  only 
the  result  of  its  doubts  as  to  the  true  wishes  of  the  Helvetic  nation? 

Stapfer  soon  found  that  the  real  cause  of  delay  was  the 
non-completion  of  the  cession  of  Valais,  which  Bonaparte 
urgently  desired  for  the  construction  of  a  military  road 
across  the  Simplon  Pass ;  and  as  the  Swiss  refused  this 
demand,  matters  remained  at  a  standstill.  ^^The  whole 
of  Europe  would  not  make  him  give  up  a  favourite 
scheme,"  wrote  Stapfer  on  April  10th ;  "  the  possession 
of  Valais  is  one  of  the  matters  closest  to  his  heart." 

The  protracted  pressure  of  a  French  army  of  occupa- 
tion on  that  already  impoverished  land  proved  irresisti- 
ble ;  and  some  important  modifications  of  the  Swiss  project 
of  a  constitution,  on  which  the  First  Consul  insisted,  were 
inserted  in  the  new  federal  compact  of  May,  1801.  Swit- 
zerland was  now  divided  into  seventeen  cantons ;  and  de- 
spite the  wish  of  the  official  Swiss  envoys  for  a  strongly 
centralized  government,  Bonaparte  gave  large  powers  to 
the  cantonal  authorities.  His  motives  in  this  course  of 
action  have   been  variously  judged.     In  gfiving   greater 

1  See  his  letters  of  January  28th,  1801,  February  27th,  March  10th, 
March  26th,  April  10th,  and  May  16th,  published  in  a  work,  '*  Bonaparte, 
Talleyrand  et  Stapfer''  (ZtLrich,  1869). 


XVI  NAPOLEON'S  INTEBVENTI0N8  868 

freedom  of  movement  to  the  several  cantons,  he  certainly 
adopted  the  only  statesmanlike  course:  but  his  conduct 
during  the  negotiation,  his  retention  of  Valais,  and  the 
continued  occupation  of  Switzerland  by  his  troops,  albeit 
in  reduced  numbers,  caused  many  doubts  as  to  the  sincer- 
ity of  his  desire  for  a  final  settlement. 

The  unionist  majoritv  at  Berne  soon  proceeded  to 
modify  his  proposals,  which  they  condemned  as  full  of 
defects  and  contradictions;  while  the  federals  strove  to 
keep  matters  as  they  were.  In  the  month  of  October 
their  efforts  succeeded,  thanks  to  the  support  of  the 
French  ambassador  and  soldiery ;  they  dissolved  the 
Assembly,  annulled  its  recent  amendments ;  and  their 
influence  procured  for  Reding,  the  head  of  the  oligarchic 
party,  the  office  of  Landamman,  or  supreme  magistrate. 
So  reactionary,  however,  were  their  proceedings,  that  the 
First  Consul  recalled  the  French  general  as  a  sign  of  his 
displeasure  at  his  help  recently  offered  to  the  federals. 
Their  triumph  was  brief :  while  their  chiefs  were  away  at 
Easter,  1802,  the  democratic  unionists  effected  another 
cowp  d^Stat  —  it  was  the  fourth — and  promulrated  one 
more  constitution.  This  change  seems  also  to  have  been 
brought  about  with  the  connivance  of  the  French  authori- 
ties :  ^  their  refusal  to  listen  to  Stapfer's  claims  for  a 
definite  settlement,  as  well  as  their  persistent  hints  that 
the  Swiss  could  not  by  themselves  arrange  their  own 
affairs,  argued  a  desire  to  continue  the  epoch  of  quar- 
terly c(mpB  d'Stat. 

The  victory  of  the  so-called  democrats  at  Berne  now 
brought  the  whole  matter  to  the  touch.  They  appealed 
to  the  people  in  the  first  Swiss  plibUcite^  the  precursor  of 
the  famous  referendum.  It  could  now  be  decided  without 
the  interference  of  French  troops  ;  for  the  First  Consul  had 
privately  declared  to  the  new  Landamman,  Dolder,  that  he 
left  it  to  his  Government  to  decide  whether  the  foreign 
soldiery  should  remain  as  a  support  or  should  evacuate 

^Daendliker,  **Ge8chichte  der  Schweiz/*  yoL  iii.,  p.  418;  Muralt*8 
"Reinhard,*'  p.  66;  and  Stapler's  letter  of  April  28th:  *'Malgr^  cette 
apparente  neutrality  que  le  gouvemement  fran^ais  d^lare  vouloir  observer 
pour  le  moment,  diff^rentes  circonstances  me  persuadent  qu*il  a  vn  aveo 
plaisir  passer  la  direction  des  affaires  des  mains  de  la  majority  du  S^at 
[hely^tique]  dans  cellesde  la  minority  du  Petit  Conseil.** 


364  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Switzerland.^  After  many  searchings  of  heart,  the  new 
authorities  decided  to  try  their  fortunes  alone  —  a  response 
which  must  have  been  expected  at  Paris,  where  Stapfer  had 
for  months  been  urging  the  removal  of  the  French  forces. 
For  the  first  time  since  the  year  1798  Switzerland  was 
therefore  free  to  declare  her  will.  The  result  of  the  plSb%9' 
cite  was  decisive  enough,  72,453  votes  being  cast  in  favour 
of  the  latest  constitution,  and  92,423  against  it.  Nothing 
daunted  by  this  rebuff,  and,  adopting  a  device  which  the 
First  Consul  had  invented  for  the  benefit  of  Dutch  liberty, 
the  Bernese  leaders  declared  that  the  167,172  adult  voters 
who  had  not  voted  at  all  must  reckon  as  approving  the 
new  order  of  things.  The  flimsiness  of  this  pretext  was 
soon  disclosed.  The  Swiss  had  had  enough  of  electioneer- 
ing tricks,  hole-and-corner  revolutions,  and  paper  compacts. 
They  rushed  to  arms  ;  and  if  ever  Carlyle's  appeal  away 
from  ballot-boxes  and  parliamentary  tongue-fencers  to  the 
primsBval  mights  of  man  can  be  justified,  it  was  in  the  sharp 
and  decisive  conflicts  of  the  early  autumn  of  1802  in  Swit- 
zerland. The  troops  of  the  central  authorities,  marching 
forth  from  Berne  to  quell  the  rising  ferment,  sustained  a 
repulse  at  the  foot  of  Mont  Pilatus,  as  also  before  the  walls 
of  Zurich  ;  and,  the  revolt  of  the  federals  ever  gathering 
force,  the  Helvetic  authorities  were  driven  from  Berne  to 
Lausanne.  There  they  were  planning  flight  across  the 
Lake  of  Geneva  to  Savoy,  when,  on  October  15th,  the 
arrival  of  Napoleon's  aide-de-camp,  General  Rapp,  with  an 
imperious  proclamation  dismayed  the  federals  and  promised 
to  the  discomfited  unionists  the  mediation  of  the  First  Con- 
sul for  which  they  had  humbly  pleaded.* 

Napoleon  had  apparently  viewed  the  late  proceedings  in 
Switzerland  with  mingled  feelings  of  irritation  and  amused 

1  Garden,  "  Traits,"  vol.  viii.,  p.  10.  Mr.  Merry,  our  charge  d'affaires 
at  Paris,  reported  July  21st :  **  M.  Stapfer  makes  a  boast  of  having  ob- 
tained the  First  ConsuPs  consent  to  withdraw  the  French  troops  entirely 
from  Switzerland.  I  learn  from  some  well-disposed  Swiss  who  are  here 
that  such  a  consent  has  been  given  ;  but  they  consider  it  only  as  a  measure 
calculated  to  increase  the  disturbances  in  their  country  and  to  furnish  a 
pretext  for  the  French  to  enter  it  again." 

3  Reding,  in  a  pamphlet  published  shortly  after  this  time,  gave  full  jMur- 
ticulars  of  his  interviews  with  Bonaparte  at  Paris,  and  stated  that  he  had 
fully  approved  of  his  (Reding^s)  federal  plans.  Neither  Bonaparte  nor 
TaUeyrand  ever  denied  this. 


XVI  NAPOLEON'S  INTERVENTIONS  S65 

contempt.  *'  Well,  there  you  are  once  more  in  a  revolu- 
tion "  was  his  hasty  comment  to  Stapfer  at  a  diplomatic 
reception  shortly  after  Easter  ;  "  try  and  get  tired  of  all 
that."  It  is  difficult,  however,  to  believe  that  so  keen- 
sighted  a  statesman  could  look  forward  to  anything  but 
commotions  for  a  land  that  was  being  saddled  with  an  im- 
practicable constitution,  and  whence  the  controlling  French 
forces  were  withdrawn  at  that  very  crisis.  He  was  cer- 
tainly prepared  for  the  events  of  September  :  many  times 
he  had  quizzingly  asked  Stapfer  how  the  constitution  was 
faring,  and  he  must  have  received  with  quiet  amusement 
the  solemn  reply  that  there  could  be  no  doubt  as  to  its 
brilliant  success.  When  the  truth  flashed  on  Stapfer  he 
was  dumfounded,  especially  as  Talleyrand  at  first  mock- 
ingly repulsed  any  suggestion  of  the  need  of  French  medi- 
ation, and  went  on  to  assure  him  that  his  master  had 
neither  counselled  nor  approved  the  last  constitution,  the 
unfitness  of  which  was  now  shown  by  the  widespread  in- 
surrection. Two  days  later,  however.  Napoleon  altered 
his  tone  and  directed  Talleyrand  vigorously  to  protest 
against  the  acts  and  proclamations  of  the  victorious  feder- 
als as  "the  most  violent  outrage  to  French  honour."  On 
the  last  day  of  September  he  issued  a  proclamation  to  the 
Swiss  declaring  that  he  now  revoked  his  decision  not  to 
mingle  in  Swiss  politics,  and  ordered  the  federal  authori- 
ties and  troops  to  disperse,  and  the  cantons  to  send  depu- 
ties to  Paris  for  the  regulation  of  their  affairs  under  his 
mediation.  Meanwhile  he  bade  the  Swiss  live  once  more 
in  hope  :  their  land  was  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  but  it 
would  soon  be  saved  I  Rapp  carried  analogous  orders  to 
Lausanne  and  Berne,  while  Ney  marched  in  with  a  large 
force  of  French  troops  that  had  been  assembled  near  the 
Swiss  frontiers. 

So  glaring  a  violation  of  Swiss  independence  and  of  the 
guaranteeing  Treaty  of  Luneville  aroused  indignation 
throughout  Europe.  But  Austria  was  too  alarmed  at 
Prussian  aggrandizement  in  Germany  to  offer  any  protest ; 
and,  indeed,  procured  some  trifling  gains  by  giving  France 
a  free  hand  in  Switzerland.^    The  Court  of  Berlin,  then 

iSee  <*  Paget  Papers,^'  yoI.  1L,  despatcheB  of  October  29th,  1802,  and 
January  28th,  1803. 


THE  LIFE  OP  NAPOLEON  1  chap. 

content  to  play  the  jackal  to  the  French  lion,  revealed  to 
the  First  Consul  the  appeals  for  help  privately  made  to 
Prussia  by  the  Swiss  federals  :^  the  Czar,  influenced 
doubtless  by  his  compact  with  France  concerning  German 
affairs,  and  by  the  advice  of  his  former  tutor,  the  Swiss 
Laharpe,  offered  no  encouragement ;  and  it  was  left  to 
Great  Britain  to  make  the  sole  effort  then  attempted  for 
the  cause  of  Swiss  independence.  For  some  time  past  the 
cantons  had  made  appeals  to  the  British  Government, 
which  now,  in  response,  sent  an  English  agent,  Moore,  to 
confer  with  their  chiefs,  and  to  advance  money  and  promise 
active  support  if  he  judged  that  a  successiul  resistance 
could  be  attempted.'  The  British  Ministry  undoubtedly 
prepared  for  an  open  rupture  with  France  on  this  ques- 
tion. Orders  were  immediately  sent  from  London  that 
no  more  French  or  Dutch  colonies  were  to  be  handed 
back  ;  and,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  and 
the  French  settlements  in  India  were  refused  to  the 
Dutch  and  French  officers  who  claimed  their  surrender. 

Hostilities,  however,  were  for  the  present  avoided.  In 
face  of  the  overwhelming  force  which  Ney  had  close  at 
hand,  the  chiefs  of  the  central  cantons  shrank  from  any 
active  opposition ;  and  Moore,  finding  on  his  arrival  at 
Constance  that  they  had  decided  to  submit,  speedily 
returned  to  England.  Ministers  beheld  with  anger  and 
dismay  the  perpetuation  of  French  supremacy  in  that 
land  ;  but  they  lacked  the  courage  openly  to  oppose  the 
First  Consul's  action,  and  gave  orders  that  the  stipulated 
cessions  of  French  and  Dutch  colonies  should  take  effect. 

The  submission  of  the  Swiss  and  the  weakness  of  all 
the  Powers  encouraged  the  First  Consul  to  impose  his 
will  on  the  deputies  from  the  cantons,  who  assembled  at 
Paris  at  the  close  of  the  year  1802.  He  first  caused  their 
aims  and  the  capacity  of  their  leaders  to  be  sounded  in  a 
Franco-Swiss  Commission,  and  thereafter  assembled  them 

1  Napoleon  avowed  this  in  his  speech  to  the  Swiss  deputies  at  St  Cloud, 
December  12th,  1802. 

2  Lord  Hawkesbury's  note  of  October  lOth,  1802,  the  appeal  of  the 
Swiss,  and  the  reply  of  Mr.  Moore  from  Constance,  are  printed  in  fuU 
in  the  papers  presented  to  Parliament,  May  18th,  1803. 

The  Duke  of  Orleans  wrote  from  Twickenham  a  remarkable  letter  to 
Pitt,  dated  October  18th,  1802,  offering  to  go  as  leader  to  the  Swiss  in  the 


XVI  NAPOLEON'S  INTERVENTIONS  367 

at  St.  Cloud  on  Sunday,  December  l2th.  He  harangued 
them  at  great  length,  hinting  very  clearly  that  the  Swiss 
must  now  take  a  lar  lower  place  in  the  scale  of  peoples 
than  in  the  days  when  France  was  divided  into  sixty  fiefs, 
and  that  union  with  her  could  alone  enable  them  to  play 
a  great  part  in  the  world's  affairs :  nevertheless,  as  they 
clung  to  independence,  he  would  undertake  in  his  quality 
of  mediator  to  end  their  troubles,  and  yet  leave  them  free. 
That  they  could  attain  unity  was  a  mere  dream  of  their 
metaphysicians :  they  must  rely  on  the  cantonal  organiza- 
tion, always  provided  that  the  French  and  Italian  districts 
of  Vaud  and  the  upper  Ticino  were  not  subject  to  the 
central  or  German  cantons  :  to  prevent  such  a  dishonour 
he  would  shed  the  blood  of  50,000  Frenchmen  :  Berne 
must  also  open  its  golden  book  of  the  privileged  families 
to  include  four  times  their  number.  For  the  rest,  the 
Continental  Powers  could  not  help  them,  and  England 
had  '^no  right  to  meddle  in  Swiss  affairs.''  The  same 
menace  was  repeated  in  more  strident  tones  on  January 
29th: 

<<  I  tell  you  that  I  would  sacrifice  lOOjOOO  men  rather  than  allow 
Enj^land  to  meddle  in  your  affairs :  if  the  Cabinet  of  St.  James  uttered 
a  single  word  for  you,  it  would  be  all  u^  with  you,  I  would  unite  yon 
to  France :  if  that  Court  made  the  least  insinuation  of  its  fears  that  I 
would  be  your  Landamman,  I  would  make  myself  your  Landamman.'* 

There  spake  forth  the  inner  mind  of  the  man  who, 
whether  as  child,  youth,  lieutenant,  general,  Consul,  or 
Emperor,  loved  to  bear  down  opposition.^ 

In  those  days  of  superhimian  activity,  when  he  was 
carving  out  one  colonial  Empire  in  the  New  World  and 
preparing  to  found  another  in  India,  when  he  was  out- 
cause  of  Swiss  and  of  European  independence :  **  I  am  a  natural  enemy 
to  Bonaparte  and  to  all  similar  Governments.  .  .  .  England  and  Austria 
can  find  in  me  all  the  advantages  of  my  being  a  French  prince.  Dispose 
of  me,  Sir,  and  show  me  the  way.  I  will  follow  it.'^  See  Stanhope's 
»*  Life  of  Pitt,"  vol.  Ui.,  ch.  xxxlii. 

^  See  Roederer,  "(Euvres,*^  vol.  ill.,  p.  464,  for  the  curious  changes 
which  Napoleon  prescribed  in  the  published  reports  of  these  speeches ; 
also  Stapfer's  despatch  of  February  3rd,  1803,  which  is  more  trustworthy 
than  the  official  version  in  Napoleon '  s '  ^  Correspondance.  ^  ^  This,  however, 
contains  the  menacing  sentence  :  **  It  is  recognized  by  Europe  that  Italy 
and  Holland,  as  well  as  Switzerland,  are  at  the  disposition  of  France." 


988  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chai-. 

Witting  the  Cardinals,  rearranging  the  map  of  Germany, 
breathing  new  life  into  French  commerce  and  striving 
to  shackle  that  of  Britain,  he  yet  found  time  to  utter 
some  of  the  sagest  maxims  as  to  the  widely  difiFerent 
needs  of  the  Swiss  cantons.  He  assured  the  deputies 
that  he  spoke  as  a  Corsican  and  a  mountaineer,  who 
knew  and  loved  the  clan  system.  His  words  proved  it. 
With  sure  touch  he  sketched  the  characteristics  of  the 
French  and  Swiss  people.  Switzerland  needed  the  local 
freedom  imparted  by  her  cantons:  while  France  re- 
quired unity,  Switzerland  needed  federalism :  the  French 
rejected  this  last  as  damaging  their  power  and  glory; 
but  the  Swiss  did  not  ask  for  glory ;  they  needed  "  po- 
litical tranquillity  and  obscurity":  moreover,  a  simple 
pastoral  people  must  have  extensive  local  rights,  which 
formed  their  chief  distraction  from  the  monotony  of  life : 
democracy  was  a  necessity  for  the  forest  cantons;  but 
let  not  the  aristocrats  of  the  towns  fear  that  a  wider 
franchise  would  end  their  influence,  for  a  people  depend- 
ent on  pastoral  pursuits  would  always  cling  to  great 
families  rather  than  to  electoral  assemblies :  let  these  be 
elected  on  a  fairly  wide  basis.  Then  again,  what  ready 
wit  flashed  forth  in  his  retort  to  a  deputy  who  objected 
to  the  Bernese  Oberland  forming  part  of  the  Canton  of 
Beme :  "  Where  do  you  take  your  cattle  and  your 
cheese?"  —  "To  Berne."  —  "Whence  do  you  get  your 
grain,  cloth,  and  iron  ?"  —  "  From  Berne."  —  "  Very  well : 
'To  Berne,  from  Berne'  —  you  consequently  belong  to 
Berne."  The  reply  is  a  good  instance  of  that  canny 
materialism  which  he  so  victoriously  opposed  to  feudal 
chaos  and  monarchical  ineptitude. 

Indeed,  in  matters  great  as  well  as  small  his  genius 
pierced  to  the  heart  of  a  problem :  he  saw  that  the  demo- 
cratic unionists  had  failed  from  the  rigidity  of  their 
centralization,  while  the  federals  had  given  offence  by 
insufficiently  recognizing  the  new  passion  for  social 
equality.^  He  now  prepared  to  federalize  Switzerland 
on  a  moderately  democratic  basis ;  for  a  policy  of  balance, 

^  It  is  only  fair  to  say  that  they  had  recognized  their  mistake  and  had 
recently  promised  equality  of  rights  to  the  formerly  subject  districts  and 
to  all  classes.    See  Muralt's  '•  Keinhard,*'  p.  113. 


XVI  NAPOLEON'S  INTERVENTIONS  369 

he  himself  being  at  the  middle  of  the  see-saw,  was  obvi- 
ously required  by  good  sense  as  well  as  by  self-interest. 
Witness  his  words  to  Roederer  on  this  subject : 

<<  While  satisfying  the  generality,  I  cause  the  patricians  to  tremble. 
In  giving  to  these  last  the  appearance  of  power,  I  oblige  them  to  take 
refuge  at  my  side  in  order  to  find  protection.  I  let  the  people  threaten 
the  aristocrats,  so  that  these  may  have  need  of  me.  I  will  cive  them 
places  and  distinctions,  but  they  will  hold  them  from  me.  This  sys- 
tem of  mine  has  succeeded  in  France.  See  the  clergy.  Every  day 
they  will  become,  in  spite  of  themselves,  more  devoted  to  my  govern- 
ment than  they  had  foreseen." 

How  simple  and  yet  how  subtle  is  this  statecraft;  sim- 
plicity of  aim,  with  subtlety  in  the  choice  of  means :  this 
is  the  secret  of  his  success. 

After  much  preliminary  work  done  by  French  com- 
missioners and  the  Swiss  deputies  in  committee,  the  First 
Consul  summed  up  the  results  of  their  labours  in  the  Act 
of  Mediation  of  February  19th,  1803,  which  constituted 
the  Confederation  in  nineteen  cantons,  the  formerly  sub- 
ject districts  now  attaining  cantonal  dignity  and  privi- 
leges. The  forest  cantons  kept  their  ancient  folk-moots, 
while  the  town  cantons  such  as  Berne,  Zurich,  and  Basel 
were  suffered  to  blend  their  old  institutions  with  demo- 
cratic customs,  greatly  to  the  chagrin  of  the  unionists, 
at  whose  invitation  Bonaparte  had  taken  up  the  work  of 
mediation. 

The  federal  compact  was  also  a  compromise  between  the 
old  and  the  new.  The  nineteen  cantons  were  to  enjoy  sov- 
ereign powers  under  the  shelter  of  the  old  federal  pact. 
Bonaparte  saw  that  the  fussy  imposition  of  French  govern- 
mental forms  in  1798  had  wrought  infinite  harm,  and  he 
now  granted  to  the  federal  authorities  merely  the  powers 
necessary  for  self-defence :  the  federal  forces  were  to  con- 
sist of  15,200  men  —  a  number  less  than  that  which  by 
old  treaty  Switzerland  had  to  furnish  to  France.  The 
central  power  was  vested  in  a  Landamman  and  other  offi- 
cers appointed  yearly  by  one  of  the  six  chief  cantons  taken 
in  rotation  ;  and  a  Federal  Diet,  consisting  of  twenty-five 
deputies  —  one  from  each  of  the  small  cantons,  and  two 
from  each  of  the  six  larger  cantons  —  met  to  discuss  mat- 
ters of  general  import,  but  the  balance  of  power  rested 

2b 


370  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  cbaf.  xvi 

with  the  cantons :  further  articles  regulated  the  Helvetic 
debt  and  declared  the  independence  of  Switzerland  —  as 
if  a  land  could  be  independent  which  furnished  more 
troops  to  the  foreigner  than  it  was  allowed  to  maintain 
for  its  own  defence.  Furthermore,  the  Act  breathed  not 
a  word  about  religious  liberty,  freedom  of  the  Press,  or 
the  right  of  petition :  and,  viewing  it  as  a  whole,  the 
friends  of  freedom  had  cause  to  echo  the  complaint  of 
Stapfer  that  "  the  First  Consul's  aim  was  to  annul  Switzer- 
land politically,  but  to  assure  to  the  Swiss  the  greatest 
possible  domestic  happiness/' 

I  have  judged  it  advisable  to  give  an  account  of  Franco- 
Swiss  relations  on  a  scale  proportionate  to  their  interest 
and  importance ;  they  exhibit,  not  only  the  meanness  and 
folly  of  the  French  Directory,  but  the  genius  of  the  great 
Corsican  in  skilfully  blending  the  new  and  the  old,  and 
in  his  rejection  of  the  fussy  pedantry  of  French  theorists 
and  the  worst  prejudices  of  the  Swiss  oligarchs.  Had  not 
his  sage  designs  been  intertwined  with  subtle  intrigues 
which  assured  his  own  unquestioned  supremacy  in  that 
land,  the  Act  of  Mediation  might  be  reckoned  among  the 
grandest  and  most  beneficent  achievements.  As  it  is,  it 
must  be  regarded  as  a  masterpiece  of  able  but  selfish  state- 
craft, which  contrasts  unfavourably  with  the  disinterested 
arrangements  sanctioned  by  the  allies  for  Switzerland  in 
1815. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   RENEWAL  OF   WAR 

The  re-occupation  of  Switzerland  by  the  French  in  Oc- 
tober, 1802,  was  soon  followed  by  other  serious  events, 
which  convinced  the  British  Ministry  that  war  was  hardly 
to  be  avoided.  Indeed,  before  the  treaty  was  ratified, 
ominous  complaints  had  begun  to  pass  between  Paris  and 
London. 

Some  of  these  were  trivial,  others  were  highly  impor- 
tant. Among  the  latter  was  the  question  of  commercial 
intercourse.  The  British  Ministry  had  neglected  to  obtain 
any  written  assurance  that  trade  relations  should  be  re- 
sumed between  the  two  countries ;  and  the  First  Consul, 
either  prompted  by  the  protectionist  theories  of  the  Jaco- 
bins, or  because  he  wished  to  exert  pressure  upon  England 
in  order  to  extort  further  concessions,  deteimined  to  re- 
strict trade  with  us  to  the  smallest  possible  dimensions. 
This  treatment  of  England  was  wholly  exceptional,  for  in 
his  treaties  concluded  with  Russia,  Portugal,  and  the 
Porte,  Napoleon  had  procured  the  insertion  of  clauses 
which  directly  fostered  French  trade  with  those  lands. 
Remonstrances  soon  came  from  the  British  Government 
that  "  strict  prohibitions  were  being  enforced  to  the  admis- 
sion of  British  commodities  and  manufactures  into  France, 
and  very  vigorous  restrictions  were  imposed  on  British 
vessels  entering  French  ports";  but,  in  spite  of  all  repre- 
sentations, we  had  the  mortification  of  seeing  the  hardware 
of  Birmingham,  and  the  ever-increasing  stores  of  cotton 
and  woollen  goods,  shut  out  from  France  and  her  subject- 
lands,  as  well  as  from  the  French  colonies  which  we  had 
just  handed  back. 

In  this  policy  of  commercial  prohibition  Napoleon  was 
confirmed  by  our  refusal  to  expel  the  Bourbon  princes. 
He  declined  to  accept  our  explanation  that  they  were  not 

871 


872  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

officially  recognized,  and  coold  not  be  expelled  from  Eng- 
land without  a  violation  of  the  rights  of  hospitality;  and 
he  bitterly  complained  of  the  personal  attacks  made  upon 
him  in  journals  published  in  London  by  the  French 
imigrSi.  Of  these  the  most  acrid,  namely,  those  of 
Peltier's  paper,  "L'Ambigu,"  had  already  received  the 
reprobation  of  the  British  Ministry ;  but,  as  had  been  pre- 
viously explained  at  Amiens,  the  Addington  Cabinet  de- 
cided that  it  could  not  venture  to  curtail  the  liberty  of  the 
Press,  least  of  all  at  the  dictation  of  the  very  man  who  was 
answering  the  pop-guns  of  our  unofficial  journals  by  double- 
shotted  retorts  in  the  official  ^^  Moniteur."  Of  these  last 
His  Majesty  did  not  deign  to  make  any  formal  com- 
plaint ;  but  he  suggested  that  their  insertion  in  the  organ 
of  the  French  Government  should  have  prevented  Napo- 
leon from  preferring  the  present  protests. 

This  wordy  war  proceeded  with  unabated  vigour  on 
both  sides  of  the  Channel,  the  British  journals  complain- 
ing of  the  Napoleonic  dictatorship  in  Continental  affairs 
while  the  "  Moniteur  "  bristled  with  articles  whose  short, 
sharp  sentences  could  come  only  from  the  If'irst  Consul. 
The  official  Press  hitherto  had  been  characterized  by  dull 
decorum,  and  great  was  the  surprise  of  the  older  Courts 
when  the  French  official  journals  compared  the  policy  of 
the  Court  of  St.  James  with  the  methods  of  the  Barbary 
rovers  and  the  designs  of  the  Miltonic  Satan.^  Neverthe- 
less, our  Ministry  prosecuted  and  convicted  Peltier  for 
libel,  an  act  which,  at  the  time,  produced  an  excellent 
impression  at  Paris.' 

But  more  serious  matters  were  now  at  hand.  News- 
paper articles  and  commercial  restrictions  were  not  the 
cause  of  war,  however  much  they  irritated  the  two  peo- 
ples. 

The  general  position  of  Anglo-French  affairs  in  the 
autumn  of  1802  is  well  described  in  the  oflBcial  instruc- 
tions given  to  Lord  Whitworth  when  he  was  about  to 
proceed  as  ambassador  to  Paris.     For  this  difficult  duty 

2  See,  inter  alia^  the  **  Moniteur'*  of  August  8th,  October  9th,  Novem- 
ber 6th,  1802  ;  of  January  Ist  and  9tb,  February  10th,  1803. 

<  Lord  Whitworth*8  despatches  of  February  28th  and  March  Sid,  180S, 
in  Browning's  "  England  and  Napoleon." 


XTii  THE  RENEWAL  OF  WAR  373 

he  had  several  good  qualifications.  During  his  embassy 
at  St.  Petersburg  he  had  shown  a  combination  of  tact  and 
firmness  which  imposed  respect,  and  doubtless  his  com- 
posure under  the  violent  outbreaks  of  the  Czar  Paul  fur- 
nished a  recommendation  for  the  equally  trying  post  at 
Paris,  which  he  filled  with  a  sang  froid  that  has  become 
historic.  Possibly  a  more  genial  personality  might  have 
smoothed  over  some  difficulties  at  the  Tuileries :  but  the 
Addington  Ministry,  having  tried  geniality  in  the  person 
of  Cornwallis,  naturally  selected  a  man  who  was  remark- 
able for  his  powers  of  quiet  yet  firm  resistance. 

His  first  instructions  of  September  10th,  1802,  are  such 
as  might  be  drawn  up  between  any  two  Powers  entering 
on  a  long  term  of  peace.  But  the  series  of  untoward 
events  noticed  above  overclouded  the  political  horizon ; 
and  the  change  finds  significant  expression  in  the  secret 
instructions  of  November  14th.  He  is  now  charged  to 
state  George  III.'s  determination  ^^  never  to  forego  his 
right  of  interfering  in  the  affairs  of  the  Continent  on  any 
occasion  in  which  the  interests  of  his  own  dominions  or 
those  of  Europe  in  general  may  appear  to  him  to  require 
it."  A  French  despatch  is  then  quoted,  as  admitting 
that,  for  every  considerable  gain  of  France  on  the  Conti- 
nent, Great  Britain  had  some  claim  to  compensation :  and 
such  a  claim,  it  was  hinted,  might  now  be  proffered  after 
the  annexation  of  Piedmont  and  Parma.  Against  the  con- 
tinued occupation  of  Holland  by  French  troops  and  their 
invasion  of  Switzerland,  Whitworth  was  to  make  moder- 
ate but  firm  remonstrances,  but  in  such  a  way  as  not  to 
commit  us  finally.  He  was  to  employ  an  equal  discretion 
with  regard  to  Malta.  As  Russia  and  Prussia  had  as  yet 
declined  to  guarantee  the  arrangements  for  that  island's 
independence,  it  was  evident  that  the  British  troops  could 
not  yet  be  withdrawn. 

"  HIb  Majesty  would  certainly  be  justified  in  claiming  the  posses- 
sion of  Malta,  as  some  counterpoise  to  the  acquisitions  of  France,  since 
the  conclusion  of  the  definitive  treaty :  but  it  is  not  necessary  to  de- 
cide now  whether  His  Majesty  will  be  disposed  to  avail  himself  of 
his  pretensions  in  this  respect." 

Thus  between  September  10th  and  November  14th  we 
passed  from  a  distinctly  pacific  to  a  bellicose  attitude,  and 


874  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  cbap. 

all  but  formed  the  decision  to  demand  Malta  as  a  com- 
pensation for  the  recent  aggrandizements  of  France.  To 
have  declared  war  at  once  on  these  grounds  would  cer- 
tainly have  been  more  dignified.  But,  as  our  Ministry 
had  already  given  way  on  many  topics,  a  sudden  deda* 
ration  of  war  on  Swiss  and  Italian  affairs  would  have 
stultified  its  complaisant  conduct  on  weightier  subjects. 
Moreover,  the  whole  drift  of  eighteenth-century  diplo- 
macy, no  less  than  Bonaparte's  own  admission,  warranted 
the  hope  of  securing  Malta  by  way  of  ^^compensation." 
The  adroit  bargainer,  who  was  putting  up  German  Church 
lands  for  sale,  who  had  gained  Louisiana  by  the  Parma- 
Tuscany  exchange,  and  still  professed  to  the  Czar  his 
good  intentions  as  to  an  ^^ indemnity"  for  the  King  of 
Sardinia,  might  weU  be  expected  to  admit  the  principle, 
of  compensation  in  Anglo-French  relations  when  these 
were  being  jeopardized  by  French  aggrandizement ;  and, 
as  will  shortly  appear,  the  First  Consul,  while  professing 
to  champion  international  law  against  perfidious  Albion, 

Srivately  admitted  her  right  to  compensation,  and  only 
emurred  to  its  practical  application  when  his  oriental 
designs  were  thereby  compromised. 

Before  Whitworth  proceeded  to  Paris,  sharp  remon- 
strances had  been  exchanged  between  the  French  and 
British  Governments.  To  our  protests  against  Napo- 
leon's interventions  in  neighbouring  States,  he  retorted  by 
demanding  ^^  the  whole  Treaty  of  Amiens  and  nothing  but 
that  treaty."  Whereupon  Hawkesbuir  answered:  "The 
state  of  the  Continent  at  the  period  of  the  Treaty  of 
Amiens,  and  nothing  but  that  state."  In  reply  Napoleon 
sent  off  a  counterblast,  alleging  that  French  troops  had 
evacuated  Taranto,  that  Switzerland  had  requested  his  me- 
diation, that  German  affairs  possessed  no  novelty,  and  that 
England,  having  six  months  previously  waived  her  interest 
in  continental  affairs,  could  not  resume  it  at  will.  The 
retort,  which  has  called  forth  the  admiration  of  M.  Thiers, 
is  more  specious  than  convincing.  Hawkesbury's  appeal 
was,  not  to  the  sword,  but  to  law;  not  to  French  influence 
gained  by  military  occupations  that  contravened  the  Treaty 
of  Luneville,  but  to  international  equity. 

Certainly,  the  Addington  Cabinet  committed  a  grievous 


xrn  THE  RENEWAL  OF  WAR  375 

blunder  in  not  inserting  in  the  Treaty  of  Amiens  a  clause 
stipulating  the  independence  of  the  Batavian  and  Helvetic 
Republics.  Doubtless  it  relied  on  the  Treaty  of  Luneville, 
and  on  a  Franco-Dutch  convention  of  August,  1801,- which 
specified  that  French  troops  were  to  remain  in  the  Batavian 
Republic  only  up  to  the  time  of  the  general  peace.  But 
it  is  one  thing  to  rely  on  international  law,  and  quite  an- 
other thing,  in  an  age  of  violence  and  chicanery,  to  hazard 
the  gravest  material  interests  on  its  observance.  Yet  this 
was  what  the  Addington  Ministry  had  done:  ^^  His  Majesty 
consented  to  make  numerous  and  most  important  restitu- 
tions to  the  Batavian  Government  on  the  consideration  of 
that  Government  being  independent  and  not  being  subject 
to  any  foreign  control."^  Truly  the  restoration  of  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  and  of  other  colonies  to  the  Dutch 
solely  in  reliance  on  the  observance  of  international  law 
by  Napoleon  and  Talleyrand,  was,  as  the  event  proved,  an 
act  of  singular  credulity.  But,  looking  at  this  matter  fairly 
and  squarely,  it  must  be  allowed  that  Napoleon's  reply 
evaded  the  essence  of  the  British  complaint;  it  was  merely 
an  argumentum  ad  hominem ;  it  convicted  the  Addington 
Cabinet  of  weakness  and  improvidence ;  but  in  equity  it 
was  null  and  void,  and  in  practical  politics  it  betokened 
war. 

As  Napoleon  refused  to  withdraw  his  troops  from  Hol- 
land, and  continued  to  dominate  that  unhappy  realm,  it  was 
clear  that  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  would  speedily  be  closed 
to  our  ships  —  a  prospect  which  immensely  enhanced  the 
value  of  the  overland  route  to  India,  and  of  those  portals 
of  the  Orient,  Malta  and  Egypt.  To  the  Maltese  Question 
we  now  turn,  as  also,  later  on,  to  the  Eastern  Question, 
with  which  it  was  then  closely  connected. 

Many  causes  excited  the  uneasiness  of  the  British  Gov- 
ernment about  the  fate  of  Malta.  In  spite  of  our  effort 
not  to  wound  the  susceptibilities  of  the  Czar,  who  was  pro- 
tector of  the  Order  of  St.  John,  that  sensitive  young  ruler 
had  taken  umbrage  at  the  article  relating  to  that  island. 
He  now  appeared  merely  as  one  of  the  six  Powers  guar- 
anteeing its  independence,  not  as  the  sole  patron  and 
guarantor,  and  he  was  piqued  at  his  name  appearing  after 

^  Secret  instructions  to  Lord  Whitworth,  November  14th,  1802. 


876  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

that  of  the  Emperor  Francis  !  ^  For  the  present  arrange- 
ment the  First  Consul  was  chiefly  to  blame  ;  but  the  Czar 
vented  his  displeasure  on  England.  On  April  28th,  1802, 
our  envoy  at  Paris,  Mr.  Merry,  reported  as  follows  : 

"Either  the  Russian  Grovemment  itself,  or  Coant  Markoff  alone 
personally,  is  so  completely  oat  of  hamour  with  us  for  not  having 
acted  in  strict  concert  with  them,  or  him,  or  in  conformity  to  their 
ideas  in  negotiating  the  definitive  treaty  [of  Amiens],  that  I  find  he 
takes  pains  to  turn  it  into  ridicule,  and  particularly  to  represent  the 
arrangement  we  have  made  for  Malta  as  impracticable  and  conse- 
quently as  completely  null." 

The  despatches  of  our  ambassador  at  St.  Petersburg, 
Lord  St.  Helens,  and  of  his  successor,  Admiral  Warren, 
are  of  the  same  tenor.  They  report  the  Czar's  annoy- 
ance with  England  over  the  Maltese  affair,  and  his  1*6- 
fusal  to  listen  even  to  the  joint  Anglo-French  request 
of  November  18th,  1802,  for  his  guarantee  of  the  Amiens 
arrangements.^  A  week  later  Alexander  announced  that 
he  would  guarantee  the  independence  of  Malta,  provided 
that  the  complete  sovereignty  of  the  Knights  of  St.  John 
was  recognized  —  that  is,  without  any  participation  of  the 
native  Maltese  in  the  affairs  of  that  Order  —  and  that  the 
island  should  be  garrisoned  by  Neapolitan  troops,  paid 
by  France  and  England,  until  the  Knights  should  be  able 
to  maintain  their  independence.  This  reopening  of  the 
question  discussed,  ad  nauseam^  at  Amiens  proved  that  the 
Maltese  Question  would  long  continue  to  perplex  the  world. 
The  matter  was  still  further  complicated  by  the  abo- 
lition of  the  Priories,  Commanderies,  and  property 
of  the  Order  of  St.  John  by  the  French  Government  in 
the  spring  of  1802  —  an  example  which  was  imitated  by 
the  Court  of  Madrid  in  the  following  autumn  ;  and  as  the 
property  of  the  Knights  in  the  French  part  of  Italy  had 
also  lapsed,  it  was  difficult  to  see  how  the  scattered  and 

1"  Foreign  Office  Records,"  Russia,  No.  50. 

*  In  his  usually  accurate  **  Manuel  historique  de  Politique  Etrang^re  '* 
(vol.  it.,  p.  238),  M.  Bourgeois  states  that  in  May,  1802,  I^rd  St  Helens 
succeeded  in  persuading  the  Czar  not  to  give  his  guarantee  to  the  clause 
respecting  Malta.  Every  despatch  that  I  have  read  runs  exactly  counter 
to  this  statement :  the  fact  is  that  the  Czar  took  umbrage  at  the  treaty 
and  refused  to  listen  to  our  repeated  requests  for  his  guarantee.  Thiers 
rightly  states  that  the  British  Ministry  pressed  the  Czar  to  give  his  guar- 
antee, but  that  France  long  neglected  to  send  her  application.  Why  this 
neglect  if  she  wished  to  settle  matters  ? 


xvn  THE  RENEWAL  OF  WAB  877 

impoverished  Knights  could  form  a  stable  govermnent, 
especially  if  the  native  Maltese  were  not  to  be  admitted 
to  a  share  in  public  affairs.  This  action  of  France,  Spain, 
and  Russia  fully  warranted  the  British  Government  in 
not  admitting  into  the  fortress  the  2,000  Neapolitan  troops 
that  arrived  in  the  autumn  of  1802.  Our  evacuation  of 
Malta  was  conditioned  by  several  stipulations,  five  of 
which  had  not  been  fulfilled.^  But  the  difficulties  arising 
out  of  the  reconstruction  of  this  moribund  Order  were  as 
nothing  when  compared  with  those  resulting  from  the 
reopening  of  a  far  vaster  and  more  complex  question — the 
^^ eternal''  Eastern  Question. 

Rarely  has  the  mouldering  away  of  the  Turkish  Empire 
gone  on  so  rapidly  as  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  Corruption  and  favouritism  paralyzed  the  Gov- 
ernment at  Constantinople ;  masterful  pachas,  aping  the 
tactics  of  Ali  Pacha,  the  virtual  ruler  of  Albania,  were 
beginning  to  carve  out  satrapies  in  Syria,  Asia  Minor, 
Wallachia,  and  even  in  Roumelia  itself.  Such  was  the 
state  of  Turkey  when  the  Sultan  and  his  advisers  heard 
with  deep  concern,  in  October,  1801,  that  the  only  Power 
on  whose  friendship  they  could  firmly  rely  was  about  to 
relinquish  Malta.  At  once  he  sent  an  earnest  appeal  to 
George  III.  begging  him  not  to  evacuate  the  island. 
This  despatch  is  not  in  the  archives  of  our  Foreign  Office; 
but  the  letter  written  from  Malta  by  Lord  Elgin,  our  am- 
bassador at  Constantinople,  on  his  return  home,  sufficiently 
shows  that  the  Sultan  was  conscious  of  his  own  weakness 
and  of  the  schemes  of  partition  which  were  being  concocted 
at  Paris.  Bonaparte  had  already  begun  to  sound  both 
Austria  and  Russia  on  this  subject,  deftly  hinting  that  the 
Power  which  did  not  early  join  in  the  enterprise  would 
come  poorly  off.  For  the  present  both  the  rulers  rejected 
his  overtures ;  but  he  ceased  not  to  hope  that  the  anarchy 
in  Turkey,  and  the  jealousy  which  partition  schemes 
always  arouse  among  neighbours,  would  draw  first  one 
and  then  the  other  into  his  enterprise.^ 

1  Castlereagh's  '*  Letters  and  Despatches/*  Second  Series,  yoI.  i.,  pp.  66 
and  69  ;  Dumas'  ^*  Evtoemente,*'  Ix.,  91. 

3  M^moire  of  Francis  11.  to  Cobenzl  (March  3l8t,  1801),  in  Beer, 
"Die  Orientalische  Politik  Oesterreichs,*'  Appendix. 


878  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

The  young  Czar's  disposition  was  at  that  period  restless 
and  unstable,  free  from  the  passionate  caprices  of  his  ill-fated 
father,  and  attuned  by  the  fond  efforts  of  the  Swiss  demo- 
crat Laharpe  to  the  loftiest  aspirations  of  the  France  of 
1789.  Yet  the  son  of  Paul  I.  could  hardly  free  himself 
from  the  instincts  of  a  line  of  conquering  Czars;  his  frank 
blue  eyes,  his  graceful  yet  commanding  figure,  his  high 
broad  forehead  and  close-shut  mouth  gave  promise  of 
mental  energy;  and  his  splendid  physique  and  love  of  mar- 
tial display  seemed  to  invite  him  to  complete  the  campaigns 
of  Catherine  II.  against  the  Turks,  and  to  wash  out  in  the 
waves  of  the  Danube  the  remorse  which  he  still  felt  at  his 
unwitting  complicity  in  a  parricidal  plot.  Between  his  love 
of  liberty  and  of  foreign  conquest  he  for  the  present  wa- 
vered, with  a  strange  constitutional  indecision  that  marred 
a  noble  character  and  that  yielded  him  a  prey  more  than 
once  to  a  masterful  will  or  to  seductive  projects.  He  is 
the  Janus  of  Russian  history.  On  the  one  side  he  faces 
the  enormous  problems  of  social  and  political  reform,  and 
yet  he  steals  many  a  longing  glance  towards  the  dome  of 
St.  Sophia.  This  instability  in  his  nature  has  been  thus 
pointedly  criticised  by  his  friend  Prince  Czartoryski:^ 

*<  Grand  ideas  of  the  general  good,  generous  sentiments,  and  the 
desire  to  sacrifice  to  them  a  part  of  the  imperial  authority,  had  really 
occupied  the  Emperor's  mind,  but  they  were  rather  a  young  man's 
fancies  than  a  grown  man's  decided  wiU.  The  Emperor  liked  forms 
of  liberty,  as  he  liked  the  theatre :  it  gave  him  pleasure  and  flattered 
his  vanity  to  see  the  appearances  of  free  government  in  his  Empire : 
but  all  he  wanted  in  this  respect  was  forms  and  appearances :  he  did 
not  expect  them  to  become  realities.  He  would  willingly  have  agreed 
that  every  man  should  be  free,  on  the  condition  that  he  should  volun- 
tarily do  only  what  the  Emperor  wished." 

This  later  judgment  of  the  well-known  Polish  nation- 
alist is  probably  embittered  by  the  disappointments  which 
he  experienced  at  the  Czar^s  hands ;  but  it  expresses  the 
feeling  of  most  observers  of  Alexander's  early  career,  and 
it  corresponds  with  the  conclusion  arrived  at  by  Napoleon's 
favourite  aide-de-camp,  Duroc,  who  went  to  congratulate 
the  young  Czar  on  his  accession  and  to  entice  him  into 
oriental  schemes — that  there  was  nothing  to  hope  and 

1 '» Memoirs,"  vol.  i.,  ch.  xiU. 


XVII  THE  RENEWAL  OF   WAR  379 

nothing  to  fear  from  the  Czar.  The  mot  was  deeply 
true.^ 

From  these  oriental  schemes  the  young  Czar  was,  for 
the  time,  drawn  aside  towards  the  nobler  path  of  social 
reform.  The  saving  influence  on  this  occasion  was  exerted 
by  his  old  tutor,  Laharpe.  The  ex-Director  of  Switzer- 
land readily  persuaded  the  Czar  that  Russia  sorely  needed 
political  and  social  reform.  His  influence  was  powerfully 
aided  by  a  brilliant  group  of  young  men,  the  VorontzofFs, 
the  Strogonoffs,  Novossiltzoff,  and  Czartoryski,  whose  ad- 
miration for  western  ideas  and  institutions,  especially 
those  of  Britain,  helped  to  impel  Alexander  on  the  path 
of  progress.  Thus,  when  Napoleon  was  plying  the  Czar 
with  notes  respecting  Turkey,  that  young  ruler  was  com- 
mencing to  bestow  system  on  his  administration,  privileges 
on  the  serfs,  and  the  feeble  beginnings  of  education  on 
the  people. 

While  immersed  in  these  beneficent  designs,  Alexander 
heard  with  deep  chagrin  of  the  annexation  of  Piedmont 
and  Parma,  and  that  Napoleon  refused  to  the  King  of 
Sardinia  any  larger  territory  than  the  Siennese.  This 
breach  of  good  faith  cut  the  Czar  to  the  quick.  It  was  in 
vain  that  Napoleon  now  sought  to  lure  him  into  Turkish 
adventures  by  representing  that  France  should  secure  the 
Morea  for  herself,  that  other  parts  of  European  Turkey 
might  be  apportioned  to  Victor  Emmanuel  I.  and  the 
French  Bourbons.  This  cold-blooded  proposal,  that  an- 
cient dynasties  should  be  thrust  from  the  homes  of  their 
birth  into  alien  Greek  or  Moslem  lands,  wounded  the 
Czar's  monarchical  sentiments.  He  would  none  of  it ; 
nor  did  he  relish  the  prospect  of  seeing  the  French  in  the 
Morea,  whence  they  could  complete  the  disorder  of  Turkey 
and  seize  on  Constantinople.  He  saw  whither  Napoleon 
was  leading  him.  He  drew  back  abruptly,  and  even  noti- 
fied to  our  ambassador,  Admiral  Warren,  that  England 
had  better  keep  Malta  J^ 

1  Ulmann'8  "  Russisch-Preussische  Politik,  1801-1806,"  pp.  10-12. 

»  Warren  reported  (December  10th,  1802)  that  Vorontzofl  warned  him 
to  he  very  careful  as  to  the  giving  up  of  Malta ;  and,  on  January  19th, 
Czartoryski  told  him  that  **the  Emperor  wished  the  English  to  keep 
Malta."  Bonaparte  had  put  in  a  claim  for  the  Morea  to  indemnify  the 
Bourbons  and  the  House  of  Savoy,     ("F.  O.,"  Russia,  No.  51.) 


880  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Alexander  also,  on  January  19th,  1808  (O.  S.),  charged 
his  ambassador  at  Paris  to  declare  that  the  existing  sys- 
tem of  Europe  must  not  be  further  disturbed,  that  each 
Government  should  strive  for  peace  and  the  welfare  of  its 
own  people  ;  that  the  frequent  references  of  Napoleon  to 
the  approaching  dissolution  of  Turkey  were  ill-received  at 
St.  Petersburg,  where  they  were  considered  the  chief  cause 
of  England^s  anxiety  and  refusal  to  disarm.  He  also  sug- 
gested that  the  First  Consul  by  some  public  utterance 
should  dispel  the  fears  of  England  as  to  a  partition  of  the 
Ottoman  Empire,  and  thus  assure  the  peace  of  the  world.  ^ 

Before  this  excellent  advice  was  received,  Napoleon 
astonished  the  world  by  a  daring  stroke.  On  the  30th  of 
January  the  "Moniteur"  printed  in  full  the  bellicose 
report  of  Colonel  Sebastiani  on  his  mission  to  Algiers, 
Egypt,  Syria,  and  the  Ionian  Isles.  As  that  mission  was 
afterwards  to  be  passed  off  as  merely  of  a  commercial 
character,  it  wUl  be  well  to  quote  typical  passages  from 
the  secret  instructions  which  the  First  Consul  gave  to  his 
envoy  on  September  5th,  1802  : 

<*  He  will  proceed  to  Alexandria :  he  will  take  note  of  what  is  in 
the  harbour,  the  ships,  the  forces  which  the  British  as  well  as  the 
Turks  have  there,  the  stiate  of  the  fortifications,  the  state  of  the  towers, 
the  account  of  all  that  has  passed  since  our  departure  both  at  Alexan- 
dria and  in  the  whole  of  Egypt :  finally,  the  present  state  of  the  Egyp- 
tians. ...  He  will  proceed  to  St.  Jean  d'Acre,  will  recommend  the 
convent  of  Nazareth  to  Djezzar  :  will  inform  him  that  the  agent  of 
the  [French]  Republic  is  to  appear  at  Acre :  will  find  out  about  the 
fortifications  he  has  had  made :  will  walk  along  them  himself,  if  there 
be  no  danger." 

Fortifications,  troops,  ships  of  war,  the  feelings  of  the 
natives,  and  the  protection  of  the  Christians  —  these  sub- 
jects were  to  be  Sebastiani's  sole  care.  Commerce  was 
not  once  named.  The  departure  of  this  officer  had 
already  alarmed  our  Government.  Mr.  Merry,  our  chargS 
d'affaires  in  Paris,  had  warned  it  as  to  the  real  aims  in 
view,  in  the  following  "  secret "  despatch  : 

"  Paris,  September  25«A,  1802. 

<'...!  have  learnt  from  good  authority  that  he  [Sebastiani]  was 
accompanied  by  a  person  of  the  name  of  Janbert  (who  was  Creneial 

^Browning^s  *^  England  and  Napoleon,**  pp.  88-91. 


XVII  THE  RENEWAL  OF  WAR  381 

Bonaparte's  interpreter  and  confidential  agent  with  the  natives  during 
the  time  he  commanded  in  Egypt),  who  has  carried  with  him  regular 
powers  and  instructions,  prepared  by  M.  Talleyrand,  to  treat  with 
Ibrahim-Bey  for  the  purpose  of  creating  a  fresh  and  successful  revolt  in 
Egypt  aeainst  the  power  of  the  Porte,  and  of  placing  that  country  again 
under  the  direct  or  indirect  dependence  of  France,  to  which  end  he 
has  been  authorized  to  offer  assistance  from  hence  in  men  and  money. 
The  person  who  has  confided  to  me  this  information  understands  that 
the  mission  to  Ibrahim-Bey  is  confided  solely  to  M.  Jaubert,  and  that  his 
being  sent  with  Colonel  Sebastiani  has  been  in  order  to  conceal  the  real 
object  of  it,  and  to  afford  him  a  safe  conveyance  to  Egypt,  as  well  as 
for  the  purpose  of  assisting  the  Colonel  in  his  transactions  with  the 
Regencies  of  Algiers,  Tunis,  and  Tripoli."  ^ 

Merry's  information  was  correct :  it  tallied  with  the 
secret  instructions  given  by  Napoleon  to  Sebastiani :  and 
our  Government,  thus  forewarned,  at  once  adopted  a  stiffer 
tone  on  all  Mediterranean  and  oriental  questions.  Sebas- 
tiani was  very  coldly  received  by  our  officer  commanding 
in  Egypt,  General  Stuart,  who  informed  him  that  no 
orders  had  as  yet  come  from  London  for  our  evacuation  of 
that  land.  Proceeding  to  Cairo,  the  commercial  emissary 
proposed  to  mediate  between  the  Turkish  Pacha  and  the 
rebellious  Mamelukes,  an  offer  which  was  firmly  declined.* 
In  vain  did  Sebastiani  bluster  and  cajole  by  turns.  The 
Pacha  refused  to  allow  him  to  go  on  to  Assouan,  the  head- 
quarters of  the  insurgent  Bey,  and  the  discomfited  envoy 
made  his  way  back  to  the  coast  and  took  ship  for  Acre. 
Thence  he  set  sail  for  Corfu,  where  he  assured  the  people 
of  Napoleon's  wish  that  there  should  be  an  end  to  their 
civil  discords.  Returning  to  Genoa,  and  posting  with  all 
speed  to  Paris,  he  arrived  there  on  January  25th,  1803. 
Five  days  later  that  gay  capital  was  startled  by  the  report 
of  his  mission,  which  was  printed  in  full  in  the  "Moniteur." 
It  described  the  wi'etched  state  of  the  Turks  in  Egypt  — 
the  Pacha  of  Cairo  practically  powerless,  and  on  bad  terms 
with  General  Stuart,  the  fortifications  everywhere  in  a 
ruinous  state,  the  4,430  British  troops  cantoned  in  and 
near  Alexandria,  the  Turkish  forces  beneath  contempt. 

I  "  F.  O.,"  France,  No.  72. 

^  We  were  undertaking  that  mediation.  Lord  Elgin's  despatch  from 
Constantinople,  January  15th,  1803,  states  that  he  had  induced  the  Porte 
to  allow  the  Mamelukes  to  hold  the  province  of  Assouan.  (Turkey, 
No.  88.) 


382  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

"  Six  thousand  French  would  at  present  be  enough  to  con- 
quer Egypt."  And  as  to  the  Ionian  Islands,  "I  do  not 
stray  from  the  truth  in  assuring  you  that  these  islands 
will  declare  themselves  French  as  soon  as  an  opportunity 
shall  offer  itself."! 

Such  were  the  chief  items  of  this  report.  Various 
motives  have  been  assigned  for  its  publication.  Some 
writers  have  seen  in  it  a  crushing  retort  to  English  news- 
paper articles.  Others  there  are,  as  Mr  Thiers,  who  waver 
between  the  opinion  that  the  publication  of  this  report  was 
either  a  "  sudden  unfortunate  incident,"  or  a  protest  against 
the  "  latitude  "  which  England  allowed  herself  in  the  exe- 
cution of  the  Treaty  of  Amiens. 

A  consideration  of  the  actual  state  of  affairs  at  the  end 
of  January,  1803,  will  perhaps  guide  us  to  an  explanation 
which  is  more  consonant  with  the  grandeur  of  Napoleon^s 
designs.  At  that  time  he  was  all-powerful  in  the  Old 
World.  As  First  Consul  for  Life  he  was  master  of  forty 
millions  of  men  :  he  was  President  of  the  Italian  Repub- 
lic :  to  the  Switzers,  as  to  the  Dutch,  his  word  was  law. 
Against  the  infractions  of  the  Treaty  of  Luneville,  Austria 
dared  make  no  protest.  The  Czar  was  occupied  with  do- 
mestic affairs,  and  his  rebuff  to  Napoleon's  oriental  schemes 
had  not  yet  reached  Paris.  As  for  the  British  Ministry, 
it  was  trembling  from  the  attacks  of  the  Grenvilles  and 
Windhams  on  the  one  side,  and  from  the  equally  vigorous 
onslaughts  of  Fox,  who,  when  the  Government  proposed 
an  addition  to  the  armed  forces,  brought  forward  the  stale 
platitude  that  a  large  standing  army  ^^was  a  dangerous 

1  Papers  presented  to  Parliament  on  May  18th,  1803.  I  pass  over  the 
insults  to  General  Stuart,  as  Sebastian!  on  February  2nd  recanted  to  Lord 
Whitworth  everything  he  had  said,  or  had  been  made  to  say,  on  that  topic, 
and  mentioned  Stuart  **  in  terms  oif  great  esteem."  According  to  M^neval 
(**  Mems.,"  vol.  i.,  ch.  iii.),  Jaubert,  who  had  been  vjrith  Sebastiani,  saw 
a  proof  of  the  report,  as  printed  for  the  "Moniteur,"  and  advised  the 
omission  of  the  most  irritating  passages ;  but  Maret  dared  not  take  the 
responsibility  for  making  such  omissions.  Lucien  Bonaparte  (»*  Mems.," 
vol.  ii.,  ch.  iz.)  has  another  version  —  less  credible,  I  think  —  that  Napo- 
leon himself  dictated  the  final  draft  of  the  report  to  Sebastiani ;  and  when 
the  latter  showed  some  hesitation,  the  First  Consul  muttered,  as  the  most 
irritating  passages  were  read  out,  ^^Parbleu,  nous  verrons  si  ceci — si  cela 
—  ne  d&idera  pas  John  Bull  k  guerroyer.*'  Joseph  was  much  distressed 
about  it,  and  exclaimed :  **  Ah,  mon  pauvre  traitd  d' Amiens  I  II  ne  tient 
plus  qxx'k  un  fil." 


xvix  THE  RENEWAL  OF  WAR  383 

instrument  of  influence  in  the  hands  of  the  Crown." 
When  England's  greatest  orator  thus  impaired  the  unity 
of  national  feeling,  and  her  only  statesman,  Pitt,  remained 
in  studied  seclusion,  the  First  Consul  might  well  feel 
assured  of  the  impotence  of  the  Island  Power,  and  view 
the  bickering  of  her  politicians  with  the  same  quiet  con- 
tempt that  Philip  felt  for  the  Athens  of  Demosthenes. 

But  while  his  prospects  in  Europe  and  the  East  were 
roseate,  the  western  horizon  bulked  threateningly  with 
clouds.  The  news  of  the  disasters  in  St.  Domingo  reached 
Paris  in  the  first  week  of  the  year  1803,  and  shortly  after- 
wards came  tidings  of  the  ferment  in  the  United  States 
and  the  determination  of  their  people  to  resist  the  acqui- 
sition of  Louisiana  by  France.  If  he  persevered  with  this 
last  scheme,  he  would  provoke  war  with  that  republic  and 
drive  it  into  the  arms  of  England.  From  that  blunder  his 
statecraft  instinctively  saved  him,  and  he  determined  to 
sell  Louisiana  to  the  United  States. 

So  unheroic  a  retreat  from  the  prairies  of  the  New  World 
must  be  covered  by  a  demonstration  towards  the  banks  of 
the  Nile  and  of  the  Indus.  It  was  ever  his  plan  to  cover 
retreat  in  one  direction  by  brilliant  diversions  in  another : 
only  so  could  he  enthrall  the  imagination  of  France,  and 
keep  his  hold  on  her  restless  capital.  And  the  publication 
of  Sebastiani^s  report,  with  its  glowing  description  of  the 
fondness  cherished  for  France  alike  by  Moslems,  Syrian 
Christians,  and  the  Greeks  of  Corfu ;  its  declamation 
against  the  perfidy  of  General  Stuart ;  and  its  incitation 
to  the  conquest  of  the  Levant,  furnished  him  with  the 
motive  power  for  effecting  a  telling  transformation  scene 
and  banishing  all  thoughts  of  losses  in  the  West.^ 

The  official  publication  of  this  report  created  a  sensation 
even  in  France,  and  was  not  the  bagatelle  which  M.  Thiers 
has  endeavoured  to  represent  it.*    But  far  greater  was  the 

iSo  Adams's  "  Hist,  of  the  U.  S.,"  vol.  ii.,  pp.  12-21. 

^  Miot  de  Melito,  **  Mems.,'*  vol.  i.,  ch.  xv.,  quotes  the  words  of  Joseph 
Bonaparte  to  him :  *^Let  him  [Napoleon]  once  more  drench  Europe  with 
blood  in  a  war  that  he  could  have  avoided,  and  which,  but  for  the  outra- 
geous mission  on  which  he  sent  his  Sebastiani,  would  never  have  occurred. '' 

Talleyrand  laboured  hard  to  persuade  Lord  Whitworth  that  Sebastiani's 
mission  was  ** solely  commercial"  :  Napoleon,  in  his  long  conversation 
with  our  ambassador,  **  did  not  affect  to  attribute  it  to  commercial  motives 


884  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  crat. 

astonishment  at  Downing  Street,  not  at  the  facts  disclosed 
by  the  report  —  for  Merry's  note  had  prepared  our  Minis- 
ters for  them  —  but  rather  at  the  official  avowal  of  hostile 
designs.  At  once  our  Government  warned  Whitworth  that 
he  must  insist  on  our  retaining  Malta.  He  was  also  to 
protest  against  the  publication  of  such  a  document,  and  to 
declare  that  George  III.  could  not  "enter  into  any  further 
discussion  relative  to  Malta  until  he  received  a  satisfactory 
explanation.' '  Far  from  offering  it,  Napoleon  at  once  com> 
plained  of  our  non-evacuation  of  Alexandria  and  Malta. 

"  Instead  of  that  garrison  [of  Alexandria]  being  a  means  of  pro- 
tecting Egypt,  it  was  only  furnishing  him  with  a  pretence  for  in- 
vading it.  This  he  should  not  do,  whatever  might  be  his  desire  to 
have  it  as  a  colony,  because  he  did  not  think  it  worth  the  risk  of  a  war, 
in  which  he  might  perhaps  be  considered  the  aggressor,  and  by  which 
he  should  lose  more  than  he  could  gain,  since  sooner  or  later  £s^t 
would  belong  to  France,  either  by  the  falling  to  pieces  of  the  Turkish 
Empire,  or  by  some  arrangement  with  the  Porte.  .  .  .  Finally,"  he 
asked,  **  why  should  not  the  mistress  of  the  seas  and  the  mistress  of 
the  land  come  to  an  arrangement  and  govern  the  world  ?  " 

A  subtler  diplomatist  than  Whitworth  would  probably 
have  taken  the  hint  for  a  Franco-British  partition  of  the 
world  :  but  the  Englishman,  unable  at  that  moment  to 
utter  a  word  amidst  the  torrent  of  argument  and  invective, 
used  the  first  opportunity  merely  to  assure  Napoleon  of 
the  alarm  caused  in  England  by  Sebastiani's  utterance 
concerning  Egypt.  This  touched  the  First  Consul  at  the 
wrong  point,  and  he  insisted  that  on  the  evacuation  of 
Malta  the  question  of  peace  or  war  must  depend.  In  vain 
did  the  English  ambassador  refer  to  the  extension  of  French 
power  on  the  Continent.  Napoleon  cut  him  short :  "  I 
suppose  you  mean  Piedmont  and  Switzerland :  ce  sont  des 

:  vous  n'avez  pas  le  droit  d'en  parler  a  cette  heure.*' 

Seeing  that  he  was  losing  his  temper,  Lord  Whitworth 
then  diverted  the  conversation.^ 

only,"  but  represented  it  as  necessitated  by  our  infraction  of  the  Treaty 
of  Amiens.  This  excuse  is  as  insincere  as  the  former.  The  instructions 
to  Sebastian!  were  drawn  up  on  September  6th,  1802,  when  the  British 
Ministry  was  about  to  fulfil  the  terms  of  the  treaty  relative  to  Malta  and 
was  vainly  pressing  Russia  and  Prussia  for  the  guarantee  of  its  indepen- 
dence. 

^  Despatch  of  February  2l8t 


XYU  THE  RENEWAL  OF   WAB  886 

This  long  tirade  shows  clearly  what  were  the  aims  of 
the  First  Consul.  He  desired  peace  until  his  eastern  plans 
were  fully  matured.  And  what  ruler  Would  not  desire  to 
maintain  a  peace  so  fruitful  in  conquests  —  that  perpetu- 
ated French  influence  in  Italy,  Switzerland,  and  Holland, 
that  enabled  France  to  prepare  for  the  dissolution  of  the 
Turkish  Empire  and  to  intrigue  with  the  Mahrattas? 
Those  were  the  conditions  on  which  England  could  enjoy 
peace :  she  must  recognize  the  arbitrament  of  France  in 
the  affairs  of  all  neighbouring  States,  she  must  make  no 
claim  for  compensation  in  the  Mediterranean,  and  she  must 
endure  to  be  officially  informed  that  she  alone  could  not 
maintain  a  struggle  against  France.^ 

But  George  III.  was  not  minded  to  sink  to  the  level  of 
a  Charles  II.  Whatever  were  the  failings  of  our  "  farmer 
king"  he  was  keenly  alive  to  national  honour  and  in- 
terests. These  had  been  deeply  wounded,  even  in  the 
United  Kingdom  itself.  Napoleon  had  been  active  in 
sending  ^^  commercial  commissioners "  into  our  land. 
Many  of  them  were  proved  to  be  soldiers  :  and  the  secret 
instructions  sent  bv  Talleyrand  to  one  of  them  at  Dublin, 
which  chanced  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  our  Government, 
showed  that  they  were  charged  to  make  plans  of  the  har- 
bours, and  of  the  soundings  and  moorings.^ 

Then  again,  the  French  were  almost  certainly  helping 
Irish  conspirators.  One  of  these,  Emmett,  already  sus- 
pected of  complicity  in  the  Despard  conspiracy  which 
aimed  at  the  King's  life,  had,  after  its  failure,  sought 
shelter  in  France.  At  the  close  of  1802  he  returned  to 
his  native  land  and  began  to  store  arms  in  a  house  near 
Rathfarnham.  It  is  doubtful  whether  the  authorities 
were  aware  of  his  plans,  or,  as  is  more  probable,  let  the 
plot  come  to  a  head.  The  outbreak  did  not  take  place 
till  the  following  Julv  (after  the  renewal  of  war),  when 
Emmett  and  some  of  his  accomplices,  along  with  Kussell, 
who  stirred  up  sedition  in  Ulster,  paid  for  their  folly 
with  their  lives.     They  disavowed  any  connection  with 

1 «« View  of  the  State  of  the  Republic,^*  read  to  the  Corps  Ligislatif  on 
February  21st,  1803. 

2  Papers  presented  to  Parliament  May  18th,  1808.  See  too  Pltt*s 
speech,  May  2drd,  1803. 

2o 


386  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chjlp. 

France,  but  they  must  have  based  their  hope  of  success 
on  a  promised  French  invasion  of  our  coasts.^ 

The  dealings  of  the  French  commercial  commissioners 
and  the  beginnings  of  the  Emmett  plot  increased  the 
tension  caused  by  Napoleon's  masterful  foreign  policy  ; 
and  the  result  was  seen  in  the  King's  message  to  Par- 
liament on  March  8th,  1803.  In  view  of  the  military  prep- 
arations and  of  the  wanton  defiance  of  the  First  Consul's 
recent  message  to  the  Corps  L^gislatif^  Ministers  asked 
for  the  embodiment  of  the  militia  and  the  addition  of 
10,000  seamen  to  the  navy.  After  Napoleon's  declaration 
to  our  ambassador  that  France  was  bringing  her  forces  on 
active  service  up  to  480,000  men,  the  above-named  in- 
crease of  the  British  forces  might  well  seem  a  reasonable 
measure  of  defence.  Yet  it  so  aroused  the  spleen  of  the 
First  Consul  that,  at  a  public  reception  of  ambassadors 
on  March  13th,  he  thus  accosted  Lord  Whitworth : 

"*So  yon  are  determined  to  go  to  war.'  *No,  First  Consnl,'  I  re- 
plied, '  we  are  too  sensible  of  the  advantage  of  peace.'  <  Why,  then, 
these  armaments?  Against  whom  these  measures  of  precaution? 
I  have  not  a  single  ship  of  the  line  in  the  French  ports,  but  if  you 
wish  to  arm  I  will  arm  also :  if  you  wish  to  fi^ht,  I  will  fight  also. 
You  may  perhaps  kill  France,  but  will  never  intimidate  her.'  *  We  wish,' 
said  I,  *  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  We  wish  to  live  on  good  terms 
with  her.'  *  You  must  respect  treaties  then,*  replied  he ;  '  woe  to  those 
who  do  not  respect  treaties.  Thev  shall  answer  for  it  to  all  Europe.' 
He  was  too  agitated  to  make  it  advisable  to  prolong  the  conversation : 
I  therefore  made  no  answer,  and  he  retired  to  his  apartment,  repeating 
the  last  phrase."  ^ 

This  curious  scene  shows  Napoleon  in  one  of  his 
weaker  petulant  moods  :  it  left  on  the  embarrassed  spec- 
tators no  impression  of  outraged  dignity,  but  rather  of 
the  overweening  self-assertion  of  an  autocrat  who  could 
push  on  hostile  preparations,  and  yet  flout  the  ambassador 
of  the  Power  that  took  reasonable  precautions  in  return. 
The  slight  offered  to  our  ambassador,  though  hotly  re- 


^  See  Russell^s  proclamation  of  July  22nd  to  the  men  of  Antrim  that 
*^he  doubted  not  but  the  French  were  then  fighting   in   Scotland.'* 
*^Ann.  Reg.,"  1803,  p.  246.)    This  document  is  ignored  by  Plowden 
"Hist,  of  Ireland,  1801-1810.'*) 

3  Despatch  of  March  14th,  1803.    Compare  it  with  the  very  mild  ver- 
Bion  in  Napoleon's  **  Corresp.,"  No.  6636. 


s 


XVII  THE   RENEWAL  OF  WAR  887 

sented  in  Britain,  had  no  direct  effect  on  the  negotiations, 
as  the  First  Consul  soon  took  the  opportunity  of  tacitly 
apologizing  for  the  occurrence  ;  but  indirectly  the  matter 
was  infinitely  important.  By  that  utterance  he  nailed  his 
colours  to  the  mast  with  respect  to  the  British  evacuation 
of  Malta.  With  his  keen  insight  into  the  French  nature, 
he  knew  that  ^^  honour  "  was  its  mainspring,  and  that  his 
political  fortunes  rested  on  the  satisfaction  of  that  instinct. 
He  could  not  now  draw  back  without  affronting  the  pres- 
tige of  France  and  undermining  his  own  position.  In 
vain  did  our  Government  remind  him  of  his  admission 
that  ^'  His  Majesty  should  keep  a  compensation  out  of  his 
conquests  for  the  important  acquisitions  of  territory  made 
by  France  upon  the  Continent."  ^  That  promise,  although 
official,  was  secret.  Its  violation  would,  at  the  worst, 
only  offend  the  officials  of  Whitehall.  Whereas,  if  he 
now  acceded  to  their  demand  that  Malta  should  be  the 
compensation,  he  at  once  committed  that  worst  of  all 
crimes  in  a  French  statesman,  of  rendering  himself  ludi- 
crous. In  this  respect,  then,  the  scene  of  March  13th  at 
the  Tuileries  was  indirectly  the  cause  of  the  bloodiest  war 
that  has  desolated  Europe. 

Napoleon  now  regarded  the  outbreak  of  hostilities  as 
probable,  if  not  certain.  Facts  are  often  more  eloquent 
than  diplomatic  assurances,  and  such  facts  are  not  wanting. 
On  March  6th  Decaen's  expedition  had  set  sail  from  Brest 
for  the  East  Indies  with  no  anticipation  of  immediate  war. 
On  March  16th  a  fast  brig  was  sent  after  him  with  orders 
that  he  should  return  with  all  speed  from  Pondicherry  to 
the  Mauritius.  Napoleon's  correspondence  also  shows 
that,  as  early  as  March  11th,  that  is,  after  hearing  of 
George  III.'s  message  to  Parliament,  he  expected  the  out- 
break of  hostilities  :  on  that  day  he  ordered  the  formation 
of  flotillas  at  Dunkirk  and  Cherbourg,  and  sent  urgent 
messages  to  the  sovereigns  of  Russia,  Prussia,  and  Spain, 
inveighing  against  England's  perfidy.  The  envoy  de- 
spatched to  St.  Petersburg  was  specially  charged  to  talk 
to  the  Czar  on  philosophic  questions,  and  to  urge  him  to 
free  the  seas  from  England's  tyranny. 

Much  as  Addington  and  his  colleagues  loved  peace,  they 

1  Lord  Hawkesbury  to  General  Andreossy,  March  10th. 


388  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

were  now  convinced  that  it  was  more  hazardous  than  open 
war.  Malta  was  the  only  effectual  bar  to  a  French  seizure 
of  Egypt  or  an  invasion  of  Turkey  from  the  side  of  Corfu. 
With  Turkey  partitioned  and  Egypt  in  French  hands, 
there  would  be  no  security  against  rfapoleon's  designs  on 
India.  The  British  forces  evacuated  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  on  February  2l8t,  1803;  they  set  sail  from  Alex- 
andria on  the  17th  of  the  following  month.  By  the  former 
act  we  yielded  up  to  France  the  sea  route  to  India  —  for 
the  Dutch  at  the  Cape  were  but  the  tools  of  the  First 
Consul:  by  the  latter  we  left  Malta  as  the  sole  barrier 
against  a  renewed  land  attack  on  our  Eastern  possessions. 
The  safety  of  our  East  Indian  possessions  was  really  at 
stake,  and  yet  Europe  was  asked  to  believe  that  the  ques- 
tion was  whether  England  would  or  would  not  evacuate 
Malta.  This  was  the  French  statement  of  the  case:  it 
was  met  by  the  British  plea  that  France,  having  declared 
her  acceptance  of  the  principle  of  compensation  for  us, 
had  no  cause  for  objecting  to  the  retention  of  an  island  so 
vital  to  our  interests. 

Yet,  while  convinced  of  the  immense  importance  of 
Malta,  the  Addington  Cabinet  did  not  insist  on  retaining 
it,  if  the  French  Government  would  "  suggest  some  other 
equivalent  security  by  which  His  Majesty's  object  in  claim- 
ing the  permanent  possession  of  Malta  may  be  accomplished 
and  the  independence  of  the  island  secured  conformably 
to  the  spirit  of  the  10th  Article  of  the  Treaty  of  Amiens."  * 
To  the  First  Consul  was  therefore  left  the  initiative  in 
proposing  some  other  plan  which  would  safeguard  British 
interests  in  the  Levant;  and,  with  this  qualifying  expla- 
nation, the  British  ambassador  was  charged  to  present  to 
him  the  following  proposals  for  a  new  treaty:  Malta  to 
remain  in  British  hands,  the  Knights  to  be  indemnified  for 
any  losses  of  property  which  they  may  thereby  sustain: 
Holland  and  Switzerland  to  be  evacuated  by  French  troops : 
the  island  of  Elba  to  be  confirmed  to  France,  and  the  King 
of  Etruria  to  be  acknowledged  by  Great  Britain:  the 
Italian  and  Ligurian  Republics  also  to  be  acknowledged, 
if  ^^  an  arrangement  is  made  in  Italy  for  the  King  of  Sar- 
dinia, which  shall  be  satisfactory  to  him.'' 

1  Lord  Hawkesbuiy  to  Lord  Whitworth,  April  4th,  1803. 


XYU  THE  RENEWAL  OF  WAB  889 

Lord  Whitworth  judged  it  better  not  to  present  these 
demands  point  blank,  but  gradually  to  reveal  their  sub- 
stance. This  course,  he  judged,  would  be  less  damaging 
to  the  friends  of  peace  at  the  Tuileries,  and  less  likely  to 
affront  Napoleon.  But  it  was  all  one  and  the  same.  The 
First  Consul,  in  his  present  state  of  highly  wrought  ten- 
sion, practically  ignored  the  suggestion  of  an  equivalent 
securitj/y  and  declaimed  against  the  perfidy  of  England  for 
daring  to  infringe  the  treaty,  though  he  had  offered  no 
opposition  to  the  Gzar^s  proposals  respecting  Malta,  which 
weakened  the  stability  of  the  Order  and  sensibly  modified 
that  same  treaty. 

Talleyrand  was  more  conciliatory ;  and  there  is  little 
doubt  that,  had  the  First  Consul  allowed  his  brother 
Joseph  and  his  Foreign  Minister  wider  powers,  the  crisis 
might  have  been  peaceably  passed.  Joseph  Bonaparte 
urgently  pressed  Whitworth  to  be  satisfied  with  Corfu  or 
Crete  in  place  of  Malta ;  but  he  confessed  that  the  sug- 
gestion was  quite  unauthorized,  and  that  the  First  Consul 
was  so  enraged  on  the  Maltese  Question  that  he  dared  not 
broach  it  to  him.^  Indeed,  all  through  these  critical 
weeks  Napoleon's  relations  to  his  brothers  were  very 
strained,  they  desiring  peace  in  Europe  so  that  Louisiana 
might  even  now  be  saved  to  France,  while  the  First  Con- 
sul persisted  in  his  oriental  schemes.  He  seems  now  to 
have  concentrated  his  energies  on  the  task  of  postponing 
the  rupture  to  a  convenient  date  and  of  casting  on  his  foes 
the  odium  of  the  approaching  war.  He  made  no  proposal 
that  could  reassure  Britain  as  to  the  security  of  the  over* 
land  routes  ;  and  he  named  no  other  island  which  could 
be  considered  as  an  equivalent  to  Malta. 

To  many  persons  his  position  has  seemed  logically  un- 
assailable ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  this  view  can  be 
held.  The  Treaty  of  Amiens  had  twice  over  been  ren- 
dered, in  a  technical  sense,  null  and  void  by  the  action  of 
Continental  Powers.  Russia  and  Prussia  had  not  guaran- 
teed the  state  of  things  arranged  for  Malta  by  that  treaty  ; 
and  the  action  of  France  and  Spain  in  confiscating  the 
property  of  the  Knights  in  their  respective  lands  had  so 
far  sapped  the  strength  of  the  Order  that  it  could  never 

1  Deq>atche8  of  AprU  11th  and  18th,  1808. 


390  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

again  support  the  expense  of  the  large  garrison  which  the 
lines  around  Valetta  required. 

In  a  military  sense,  this  was  the  crux  of  the  problem  ; 
for  no  one  anected  to  believe  that  Malta  was  rendered 
secure  by  the  presence  at  Valetta  of  2,000  troops  of  the 
Kin?  of  Naples,  whose  realm  could  within  a  week  be  over- 
run by  Murat's  division.  This  obvious  difficulty  led  Lord 
Hawkesbury  to  urge,  in  his  notes  of  April  13th  and  later, 
that  British  troops  should  garrison  the  chief  fortifications 
of  Valetta  and  leave  the  civil  power  to  the  Knights  :  or, 
if  that  were  found  objectionable,  that  we  should  retain 
complete  possession  of  the  island  for  ten  years,  provided 
that  we  were  left  free  to  negotiate  with  the  King  of 
Naples  for  the  cession  of  Lampedusa,  an  islet  to  the  west 
of  Malta.  To  this  last  proposal  the  First  Consul  o£fered 
no  objection  ;  but  he  still  inflexibly  opposed  any  reten- 
tion of  Malta,  even  for  ten  years,  and  sought  to  make  the 
barren  islet  of  Lampedusa  appear  an  equivalent  to  Malta. 
This  absurd  contention  had,  however,  been  exploded  by 
Talleyrand's  indiscreet  confession  "  that  the  re-establish- 
ment of  the  Order  of  St.  John  was  not  so  much  the  point 
to  be  discussed  as  that  of  suffering  Great  Britain  to  acquire 
a. possession  in  the  Mediterranean."^^ 

This,  indeed,  was  the  pith  and  marrow  of  the  whole 
question,  whether  Great  Britain  was  to  be  excluded  from 
that  great  sea — save  at  Gibraltar  and  Lampedusa — look- 
ing on  idly  at  its  transformation  into  a  French  lake  by 
the  seizure  of  Corfu,  the  Morea,  Egypt,  and  Malta  itself ; 
or  whether  she  should  retain  some  hold  on  the  overland 
route  to  the  East.  The  difficulty  was  frankly  pointed 
out  by  Lord  Whitworth ;  it  was  as  frankly  admitted  by 
Joseph  Bonaparte ;  it  was  recognized  by  Talleyrand ; 
and  Napoleon's  desire  for  a  durable  peace  must  have  been 
slight  when  he  refused  to  admit  England's  claim  effectively 
to  safeguard  her  interests  in  the  Levant,  and  ever  fell  back 
on  the  literal  fulfilment  of  a  treaty  which  had  been  in- 
validated by  his  own  deliberate  actions. 

Affairs  now  rapidly  came  to  a  climax.  On  April  23rd 
the  British  Government  notified  its  ambassador  that,  if  the 
present  terms  were  not  granted  within  seven  days  of  his 

1  Whitworth  to  Hawkesbury,  April  23rd. 


mi  THE  RENEWAL  OF  WAR  891 

receiving  them,  he  was  to,leave  Paris.  Napoleon  was  no 
less  angered  than  surprised  by  the  recent  turn  of  events. 
In  place  of  timid  complaisance  which  he  had  expected  from 
Addington,  he  was  met  with  open  defiance ;  but  he  now 
proposed  that  the  Czar  should  oflfer  his  intervention  be- 
tween the  disputants.  The  suggestion  was  infinitely 
skilful.  It  flattered  the  pride  of  the  young  autocrat  and 
promised  to  yield  gains  as  substantial  as  those  which  Rus- 
sian mediation  had  a  year  before  procured  for  France  from 
the  intimidated  Sultan ;  it  would  help  to  check  the  plans 
for  an  Anglo- Russian  alliance  then  being  mooted  at  St. 
Petersburg,  and,  above  all,  it  served  to  gain  time. 

All  these  advantages  were  to  a  large  extent  realized. 
Though  the  Czar  had  been  the  first  to  suggest  our  reten- 
tion of  Malta,  he  now  began  to  waver.  The  clearness 
and  precision  of  Talleyrand's  notes,  and  the  telling  charge 
of  perfidy  against  England,  made  an  impression  which  the 
cumbrous  retorts  of  Lord  Hawkesbury  and  the  sailor-like 
diplomacy  of  Admiral  Warren  failed  to  e£face.^  And  the 
Russian  Chancellor,  Vorontzoff,  though  friendly  to  Eng- 
land, and  desirous  of  seeing  her  firmly  established  at  Malta, 
now  began  to  complain  of  the  want  of  clearness  in  her 
policy.  The  Czar  emphasized  this  complaint,  and  sug- 
gested that,  as  Malta  could  not  be  the  real  cause  of  dis- 
pute, the  British  Government  should  formulate  distinctly 
its  grievances  and  so  set  the  matter  in  train  for  a  settle- 
ment. The  suggestion  was  not  complied  with.  To  draw 
up  along  list  of  complaints,  some  drawn  from  secret  sources 
and  exposing  the  First  Consul's  schemes,  would  have  exas- 
perated his  already  ruffled  temper  ;  and  the  proposal  can 
only  be  regarded  as  an  adroit  means  of  justifying  Alexan- 
der's sudden  change  of  front. 

Meanwhile  events  had  proceeded  apace  at  Paris.  On 
April  26th  Joseph  Bonaparte  made  a  last  effort  to  bend 
his  brother's  will,  but  only  gained  the  grudging  concession 
that  Napoleon  would  never  consent  to  the  British  retention 

1  Czartoryaki  ("Mems.,"  vol.  i.,  ch.  xiU.)  calls  him  **an  excellent 
admiral  but  an  indifferent  diplomatist  —  a  i)erfect  representative  of  the 
nullity  and  incapacity  of  the  Addington  Ministry  which  had  appointed 
him.  The  English  Government  was  seldom  happy  in  its  ambaBsadors.*' 
So  Earl  Minto's  '*  Letters,"  vol  iii,  p.  279. 


892  THB  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

of  Malta  for  a  longer  time  than  three  or  four  years.  As 
this  would  have  enabled  him  to  postpone  the  rupture  long 
enough  to  mature  his  oriental  plans,  it  was  rejected  by  Lord 
Whitworth,  who  insisted  on  ten  years  as  the  minimum. 
The  evident  determination  of  the  British  Government 
speedily  to  terminate  the  affair,  one  way  or  the  other,  threw 
Napoleon  into  a  paroxysm  of  passion  ;  and  at  the  diplo- 
matic reception  of  May  1st,  from  which  Lord  Whitworth 
discreetly  absented  himself,  he  vehemently  inveighed 
against  its  conduct.  Fretted  by  the  absence  of  our  am- 
bassador, for  whom  this  sally  had  been  intended,  he  re- 
turned to  St.  Cloud,  and  there  dictated  this  curious  epistle 
to  Talleyrand  : 

"  I  desire  that  your  conference  [with  Lord  Whitworth]  shall  not 
degenerate  into  a  conversation.  Show  yourself  cold,  reserved,  and 
even  somewhat  proud.  If  the  [British]  note  contains  the  word  uUi- 
matum  make  him  feel  that  this  word  implies  war ;  if  it  does  not  con- 
tain this  word,  make  him  insert  it,  remarking  to  him  that  we  must 
know  where  we  are,  that  we  are  tired  of  this  state  of  anxiety.  .  .  . 
Soften  down  a  little  at  the  end  of  the  conference,  and  invite  him  to 
return  before  writing  to  his  Court" 

But  this  careful  rehearsal  was  to  avail  nothing  ;  our 
stolid  ambassador  was  not  to  be  cajoled,  and  on  May  2nd, 
that  is,  seven  days  after  his  presenting  our  ultimatum,  he 
sent  for  his  passports.  He  did  not,  however,  set  out  im- 
mediately. Yielding  to  an  urgent  request,  he  delaved  his 
departure  in  order  to  hear  the  French  reply  to  the  iBritish 
ultimatum.^  It  notified  sarcastically  that  JLampedusa  was 
not  in  the  First  Consul's  power  to  bestow,  that  any  change 
with  reference  to  Malta  must  be  referred  by  Great  Britain 
to  the  Great*  Powers  for  their  concurrence,  and  that  Hol- 
land would  be  evacuated  as  soon  as  the  terms  of  the  Treaty 
of  Amiens  were  complied  with.  Another  proposal  was 
that  Malta  should  be  transferred  to  Russia  —  the  very  step 
which  was  proposed  at  Amiens  and  was  rejected  by  the 
Czar  :  on  that  account  Lord  Whitworth  now  refused  it  as 
being  merely  a  device  to  gain  time.  The  sending  of  his 
pas8poi*ts  having  been  delayed,  he  received  one  more 
despatch  from  Downing  Street,  which  allowed  that  our 

^See  Lord  Malmesbuiy^s  '* Diaries**  (vol.  It.,  p.  253)  as  to  the  bad 
results  of  Whitworth's  delay. 


xvii  THE  RENEWAL  OF  WAR  898 

retention  of  Malta  for  ten  years  should  form  a  secret 
article — a  device  which  would  spare  the  First  Consul's 
susceptibilities  on  the  point  of  honour.  Even  so,  however, 
Napoleon  refused  to  consider  a  longer  tenure  than  two  or 
three  years.  And  in  this  he  was  undoubtedly  encouraged 
by  the  recent  despatch  from  St.  Petersburg,  wherein  the 
Czar  promised  his  mediation  in  a  sense  favourable  to 
France.  This  unfortunate  occurrence  completed  the  dis- 
comfiture of  the  peace  party  at  the  Consular  Court,  and  in 
a  long  and  heated  discussion  in  a  council  held  at  St.  Cloud 
on  May  11th  all  but  Joseph  Bonaparte  and  Talleyrand 
voted  for  the  rejection  of  the  British  demands. 

On  the  next  day  Lord  Whitworth  left  Paris.  During 
his  journey  to  Calais  he  received  one  more  propofilol,  that 
France  should  hold  the  peninsula  of  Otranto  for  ten 
years  if  Great  Britain  retained  Malta  for  that  period  ; 
but  if  this  suggestion  was  made  in  good  faith,  which  is 
doubtful,  its  effect  was  destroyed  by  a  rambling  diatribe 
which  Talleyrand,  at  his  master's  orders,  sent  shortly 
afterwards.^  In  any  case  it  was  looked  upon  by  our 
ambassador  as  a  last  attempt  to  gain  time  for  the  con- 
centration of  the  French  naval  forces.  He  crossed  the 
Straits  of  Dover  on  May  17th,  the  day  after  the  British 
declaration  of  war  was  issued. 

On  May  22nd,  1803,  appeared  at  Paris  the  startling 
order  that,  as  British  frigates  had  captured  two  French 
merchantmen  on  the  Breton  coast,  all  Englishmen  between 
eighteen  and  sixty  years  of  age  who  were  in  France 
should  be  detained  as  prisoners  of  war.  The  pretext  for 
this  unheard-of  action,  which  condemned  some  10,000 
Britons  to  prolonged  detention,  was  that  the  two  French 
ships  were  seized  prior  to  the  declaration  of  war.  This 
is  false :  they  were  seized  on  May  20th,  that  is,  four  days 
after  the  British  Government  had  declared  war,  three 
days  after  an  embargo  had  been  laid  on  British  vessels  in 
French  ports,  and  seven  days  after  the  First  Consul  had 
directed  his  envoy  at  Florence  to  lay  an  embargo  on  Eng- 
lish ships  in  the  ports  of  Tuscany.^  It  is  therefore 
obvious  that  Napoleon's  barbarous  decree  merely  marked 

^Note  of  May  12th,  1808 :  see  ''  England  and  Napoleon,**  p.  249. 
«  "  Corresp.,*'  vol.  viii,  No.  6743. 


394  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

his  disappointment  at  the  failure  of  his  efforts  to  gain 
time  and  to  deal  the  first  stroke.  How  sorely  his  temper 
was  tried  by  the  late  events  is  clear  from  the  recital  of  the 
Dachesse  d*Abrantes,  who  relates  that  her  husband,  when 
ordered  to  seize  English  residents,  found  the  First  Consul 
in  a  fury,  his  eyes  flashing  fire ;  and  when  Junot  expressed 
his  reluctance  to  carry  out  this  decree,  Napoleon  passion- 
ately exclaimed:  ^^  Do  not  trust  too  far  to  my  friendship: 
as  soon  as  I  conceive  doubt  as  to  yours,  mine  is  gone/' 

Few  persons  in  England  now  cherUhed  any  doubts  as 
to  the  First  ConsuFs  hatred  of  the  nation  which  stood 
between  him  and  his  oriental  designs.  Ministers  alone 
knew  the  extent  of  those  plans :  but  every  ploughboy 
could  feel  the  malice  of  an  act  which  cooped  up  innocent 
travellers  on  the  flimsiest  of  pretexts.  National  ardour, 
and,  alas,  national  hatred  were  deeply  stirred.^  The 
Whigs,  who  had  paraded  the  clemency  of  Napoleon,  were 
at  once  helpless,  and  found  themselves  reduced  to  impo- 
tence for  wellnigh  a  generation  ;  and  the  Tories,  who 
seemed  the  exponents  of  a  national  policy,  were  left  in 
power  until  the  stream  of  democracy,  dammed  up  by  war 
in  1798  and  again  in  1803,  asserted  its  full  force  in  the 
later  movement  for  reform. 

Yet  the  opinion  often  expressed  by  pamphleteers,  that 
the  war  of  1803  was  undertaken  to  compel  France  to 
abandon  her  republican  principles,  is  devoid  of  a  shred  of 
evidence  in  its  favour.  After  1802  there  were  no  French 
republican  principles  to  be  combated ;  they  had  already 
been  jettisoned  ;  and,  since  Bonaparte  had  crushed  the 
Jacobins,  his  personal  claims  were  favourably  regarded  at 
Whitehall,  Addington  even  assuring  the  French  envoy 
that  he  would  welcome  the  establishment  of  hereditary 
succession  in  the  First  Consul's  family.^  But  while  Bona- 
parte's own  conduct  served  to  refute  the  notion  that  the 

1  See  Romllly»8  letter  to  Dumont,  May  31st,  1803  ("  Memoirs,"  yol.  i.). 

a  "  Lettres  in^dites  de  Talleyrand,"  November  3rd,  1802.  In  his  letter 
of  May  3rd,  1803,  to  Lord  Whitworth,  M.  Ruber  reports  Fouch^'s  out- 
spoken warning  in  the  Senate  to  Bonaparte  :  "  Vous  ^tes  vou8-m6me, 
ainsi  que  nous,  un  r^sultat  de  la  revolution,  et  la  guerre  remet  tout  en 

{)robl6me.    On  vous  flatte  en  vous  faisant  compter  sur  les  principes  r^vo- 
utionnaires  des  autres  nations:    le  risultat  de  notre  revolution  les  a 
aniantis  partout.^^ 


zvii  THE  RENEWAL  OF  WAR  806 

war  of  1803  was  a  war  of  principles,  his  masterful  policy 
in  Europe  and  the  Levant  convinced  every  well-informed 
man  that  peace  was  impossible ;  and  the  rupture  was 
accompanied  by  acts  and  insults  to  the  ^'  nation  of  shop- 
keepers "  that  could  be  avenged  only  by  torrents  of  blood. 
Diatribes  against  perfidious  Albion  filled  the  French  Press 
and  overflowed  into  splenetic  pamphlets,  one  of  which 
bade  odious  England  tremble  under  the  consciousness  of 
her  bad  faith  and  the  expectation  of  swift  and  condign 
chastisement.  Such  was  the  spirit  in  which  these  nations 
rushed  to  arms ;  and  the  conflict  was  scarcely  to  cease 
until  Napoleon  was  flung  out  into  the  solitudes  of  the 
southern  Atlantic. 

The  importance  of  the  rupture  of  the  Peace  of  Amiens 
will  be  realized  if  we  briefly  survey  Bonaparte's  position 
after  that  treaty  was  signed.  He  had  regained  for  his 
adopted  country  a  colonial  empire,  and  had  eiven  away 
not  a  single  French  island.  France  was  raised  to  a  posi- 
tion of  assured  strength  far  preferable  to  the  perilous 
heights  attained  later  on  at  Tilsit.  In  Australia  there 
was  a  prospect  that  the  tricolour  would  wave  over  areas 
as  great  and  settlements  as  prosperous  as  those  of  New 
South  Wales  and  the  infant  town  of  Sydney.  From  the 
He  de  France  and  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  as  convenient 
bases  of  operations,  British  India  could  easily  be  assailed  ; 
and  a  Franco-Mahratta  alliance  promised  to  yield  a  victory 
over  the  troops  of  the  East  India  Company.  In  Europe 
the  imminent  collapse  of  the  Turkish  Empire  invited  a 
partition,  whence  France  might  hope  to  gain  Egypt  and 
the  Mbrea.  The  Ionian  Isles  were  ready  to  accept  French 
annexation;  and,  if  England  withdrew  her  troops  from 
Malta,  the  fate  of  the  weak  Order  of  St.  John  could 
scarcely  be  a  matter  of  doubt. 

For  the  fulfilment  of  these  bright  hopes  one  thing  alone 
was  needed,  a  policy  of  peace  and  naval  preparation.  As 
yet  Napoleon's  navy  was  comparatively  weak.  In  March, 
1803,  he  had  only  forty-three  line-of-battle  ships,  ten  of 
which  were  on  distant  stations ;  but  he  had  ordered 
twenty-three  more  to  be  built — ten  of  them  in  Holland  ; 
and,  with  the  harbours  of  France,  Holland,  Flanders,  and 
Northern  Italy  at  his  disposal,  he  might  hope,  at  the  close 


306  THE  LIFE  OF  KAFOLEON  I  cmaf.  xru 

of  1804,  to  confront  the  flag  of  St.  George  with  a  superi- 
ority of  force.  That  was  the  time  which  his  secret  in- 
structions to  Decaen  marked  out  for  the  outbreak  of 
the  war  that  would  yield  to  the  tricolour  a  world-wide 
supremacy. 

These  schemes  miscarried  owing  to  the  impetuosity  of 
their  contriver.  Hustled  out  of  the  arena  of  European 
politics,  and  threatened  with  French  supremacy  in  the 
other  Continents,  England  forthwith  drew  the  sword ; 
and  her  action,  cutting  athwart  the  far-reaching  web  of 
the  Napoleonic  intrigues,  forced  France  to  forego  her 
oceanic  plans,  to  muster  her  forces  on  the  Straits  of  Dover, 
and  thereby  to  yield  to  the  English  race  the  supremacy  in 
Louisiana,  India,  and  Australia,  leaving  also  the  destinies 
of  Egypt  to  be  decided  in  a  later  age.  Viewed  from  the 
standpoint  of  racial  expansion,  the  renewal  of  war  in  1803 
is  the  greatest  event  of  the  century. 

[Since  this  chapter  was  printed,  articles  on  the  same  subject  have 
appeared  in  the  "Revue  Historique"  (Murch-June,  1901)  by  M. 
Foilippson,  which  take  almost  the  same  view  as  that  here  presented. 
I  cannot,  however,  agree  with  the  learned  writer  that  Na^leoo 
wanted  war.  I  think  ne  did  not,  utM  his  navy  was  ready;  but  it  was 
not  in  him  to  give  way.] 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
EUROPE  AND  THE  B0NAPARTE8 

The  disappointment  felt  by  Napoleon  at  England's 
interruption  of  his  designs  may  be  measured,  first  by  his 
efforts  to  postpone  the  rupture,  and  thereafter  by  the 
fierce  energy  which  he  threw  into  the  war.  As  has  been 
previously  noted,  the  Czar  had  responded  to  the  First 
Consul's  appeal  for  mediation  in  notes  which  seemed  to 
the  British  Cabinet  unjustly  favourable  to  the  French 
case.  Napoleon  now  offered  to  recognize  the  arbitration 
of  the  Czar  on  the  questions  in  dispute,  and  suggested 
that  meanwhile  Malta  should  be  handed  over  to  Russia 
to  be  held  in  pledge  :  he  on  his  part  offered  to  evacuate 
Hanover,  Switzerland,  and  Holland,  if  the  British  would 
suspend  hostilities,  to  grant  an  indemnity  to  the  King  of 
Sardinia,  to  allow  Britain  to  occupy  Lampedusa,  and  fully 
to  assure  "the  independence  of  Europe,"  if  France  re- 
tained her  present  frontiers.  But  when  the  Russian 
envoy,  Markoff,  urged  him  to  crown  these  proposals  by 
allowing  Britain  to  bold  Malta  for  a  certain  time,  there- 
after to  be  agreed  upon,  he  firmly  refused  to  do  so  on  his 
own  initiative,  for  that  would  soil  his  honour  :  but  he 
would  view  with  resignation  its  cession  to  Britain  if  that 
proved  to  be  the  award  of  Alexander.  Accordingly 
Markoff  wrote  to  his  colleague  at  London,  assuring  him 
that  the  peace  of  the  world  was  now  once  again  assured 
by  the  noble  action  of  the  First  Consul.^ 

Were  these  proposals  prompted  by  a  sincere  desire  to 
assure  a  lasting  peace,  or  were  they  put  forward  as  a 
device  to  gain  time  for  the  completion  of  the  French 
naval  preparations  ?  Evidently  they  were  completely 
distrusted  by  the   British   Government,  and  with   some 

^  A  copy  of  this  letter,  with  the  detailed  proposals,  is  in  our  Foreign 
Office  archives  (Russia,  No.  62). 

897 


808  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

reason.  They  were  nearly  identical  with  the  terms 
formulated  in  the  British  ultimatum,  which  Napoleon 
had  rejected.  Moreover,  our  Foreign  Office  had  by  this 
time  come  to  suspect  Alexander.  On  June  23rd  Lord 
Hawkesbury  wrote  that  it  might  be  most  damaging  to 
British  interests  to  place  Malta  ^'at  the  hazard  of  the 
Czar's  arbitration "  ;  and  he  informed  the  Russian  am- 
bassador. Count  Vorontzoff,  that  the  aim  of  the  French 
had  obviously  been  merely  to  ^ain  time,  that  their  explana- 
tions were  loose  and  unsatisfactory,  and  their  demands 
inadmissible,  and  that  Great  Britain  could  not  acknow- 
ledge the  present  territories  of  the  French  Republic  as 
permanent  while  Malta  was  placed  in  ai'bitration.  In 
fact,  our  Government  feared  that,  when  Malta  had  been 
placed  in  Alexander's  hands.  Napoleon  would  lure  him 
into  oriental  adventures  and  renew  the  plans  of  an  ad- 
vance on  India.     Their  fears  were  well  founded. 

Napoleon's  preoccupation  was  always  for  the  East :  on 
February  21st,  1803,  he  had  charged  his  Minister  of  Marine 
to  send  arms  and  ammunition  to  the  Suliotes  and  Maniotes 
then  revolting  against  the  Sultan ;  and  at  midsummer 
French  agents  were  at  Ragusa  to  prepare  for  a  landing  at 
the  mouth  of  the  River  Cattaro.^  With  Turkey  rent  by 
revolt,  Malta  placed  as  a  pledge  in  Russian  keeping,  and 
Alexander  drawn  into  the  current  of  Napoleon's  designs, 
what  might  not  be  accomplished?  Evidently  the  First 
Consul  could  expect  more  from  this  course  of  events  than 
from  barren  strifes  with  Nelson's  ships  in  the  Straits  of 
Dover.  For  us^  such  a  peace  was  far  more  risky  than  war. 
And  yet,  if  the  Czar's  oner  were  too  stiffly  repelled,  public 
opinion  would  everywhere  be  alienated,  and  in  that  has 
always  lain  half  the  strength  of  England's  policy.^  Min- 
isters therefore  declared  that,  while  they  could  not  accept 
Russia's  arbitration  without  appeal,  they  would  accede 
to  her  mediation  if  it  concerned  all  the  causes  of  the  pres- 
ent war.  This  reasonable  proposal  was  accepted  by  the 
Czar,  but  received  from  Napoleon  a  firm  refusal.     He  at 

1  Boargeois,  **  Manuel  de  Politique  Etrang^re/*  yoI.  ii.,  p.  243. 

*  See  Castlereagh^s  *^  Letters  and  Despatches,"  Second  Series,  vol.  L, 
pp.  76-82,  as  to  the  need  of  conciliating  public  opinion,  even  by  accepting 
Corfu  as  a  set-off  for  Malta,  provided  a  durable  peace  could  thus  be  secured. 


xviii  EUROPE  A^D  THE  BOKAPARTES  390 

once  wrote  to  Talleyrand,  August  23rd,  1803,  directing 
that  the  Russian  proposals  should  be  made  known  to 
Haugwitz,  the  Prussian  Foreign  Minister : 

**  Make  him  see  all  the  absurdity  of  it :  tell  him  that  Enffland  will 
never  get  from  me  any  other  treaty  than  that  of  Amiens :  that  /  loitl 
never  suffer  her  to  have  anything  in  the  Mediterranean ;  that  I  wiU  not 
treat  with  her  about  the  Continent ;  that  I  am  resolved  to  evacuate 
Holland  and  Switzerland ;  but  that  I  will  never  stipulate  this  in  an 
article." 

As  for  Russia,  he  continued,  she  talked  much  about  the 
integrity  of  Turkey,  but  was  violating  it  by  the  occupation 
of  the  Ionian  Isles  and  her  constant  intrigues  in  Wallachia. 
These  facts  were  correct :  but  the  manner'  in  which  he 
stated  them  clearly  revealed  his  annoyance  that  the  Czar 
would  not  wholly  espouse  the  French  cause.  Talleyrand's 
views  on  this  question  may  be  seen  in  his  letter  to  Bona- 
parte, when  he  assures  his  chief  that  he  has  now  reaped 
from  his  noble  advance  to  the  Russian  Emperor  the  sole 
possible  advantage  —  "that  of  proving  to  Europe  by  a 
grand  act  of  frankness  your  love  of  peace  and  to  throw 
upon  England  the  whole  blame  for  the  war."  It  is  not 
often  that  a  diplomatist  so  clearly  reveals  the  secrets  of 
his  chief's  policy.^ 

The  motives  of  Alexander  were  less  questionable.  His 
chief  desire  at  that  time  was  to  improve  the  lot  of  his 
people.  War  would  disarrange  these  noble  designs: 
France  would  inevitably  overrun  the  weaker  Continental 
States :  England  would  retaliate  by  enforcing  her  severe 
maritime  code;  and  the  whole  world  would  be  rent  in 
twain  by  this  strife  of  the  elements. 

These  gloomy  forebodings  were  soon  to  be  realized. 
Holland  was  the  first  to  suffer.  And  yet  one  effort  was 
made  to  spare  her  the  horrors  of  war.  Filled  with  com- 
miseration for  her  past  sufferings,  the  British  Government 
at  once  offered  to  respect  her  neutrality,  provided  that  the 
French  troops  would  evacuate  her  fortresses  and  exact  no 
succour  either  in  ships,  men,  or  money .^  But  such  for- 
bearance was  scarcely  to  be  expected  from  Napoleon,  who 

1  '^Lettres  in^tes  de  Talleyrand,'*  August  2l8t,  1803. 
«  Garden,  "Traits,"  vol.  yiii.,  p.  191. 


400  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap. 

not  only  had  a  French  division  in  that  land,  supported  at 
its  expense,  but  also  relied  on  its  maritime  resources.^  The 
proposal  was  at  once  set  aside  at  Paris.  Napoleon's  deci- 
sion to  drag  the  Batavian  Republic  into  the  war  arose, 
however,  from  no  spasm  of  the  war  fever ;  it  was  calmly- 
stated  in  the  secret  instructions  issued  to  General  Decaen 
in  the  preceding  January.  "  It  is  now  considered  impos- 
sible that  we  could  have  war  with  England,  without  drag- 
ging Holland  into  it."  Holland  was  accordingly  once 
more  ground  between  the  upper  and  the  nether  millstone, 
between  the  Sea  Power  and  the  Land  Power,  pouring  out 
for  Napoleon  its  resources  in  men  and  money,  and  losing 
to  the  masters  of  the  sea  its  ships,  foreign  commerce,  and 
colonies. 

Equally  hard  was  the  treatment  of  Naples.  In  spite  of 
the  Czar's  plea  that  its  neutrality  might  be  respected,  this 
kingdom  was  at  once  occupied  by  St.  Cyr  with  troops  that 
held  the  chief  positions  on  the  '*heel"  of  Italy.  This 
infraction  of  the  Treaty  of  Florence  was  to  be  justified  by 
a  proclamation  asserting  that,  as  England  had  retained 
Malta,  the  balance  of  power  required  that  France  should 
hold  these  positions  as  long  as  England  held  Malta.'  This 
action  punished  the  King  and  Queen  of  Naples  for  their 
supposed  subservience  to  English  policy;  and,  while 
lightening  the  burdens  of  the  French  exchequer,  it  com- 
pelled England  to  keep  a  large  fleet  in  the  Mediterranean 
for  the  protection  of  Egypt,  and  thereby  weakened  her 
defensive  powers  in  the  Straits  of  Dover.  To  distract  his 
foes,  and  compel  them  to  extend  their  lines,  was  ever 
Napoleon's  aim  both  in  military  and  naval  strategy  ;  and 
the  occupation  of  Taranto,  together  with  the  naval  activity 
at  Toulon  and  Genoa,  left  it  doubtful  whether  the  great 
captain  determined  to  strike  at  London  or  to  resume  his 
eastern  adventures.  His  previous  moves  all  seemed  to 
point  towards  Egypt  and  India ;  and  the  Admiralty  in- 
structions of  May  18th,  1808,  to  Nelson,  reveal  the  expec- 
tation of  our  Government  that  the  real  blow  would  fall 
on  the  Morea  and  Egypt.     Six  weeks  later  our  admiral 

1  Holland  was  required  to  furnish  16,000  troops  and  maintain  18,000 
French,  to  provide  10  ships  of  war  and  360  gunboats. 
»**Corre8p.,"  May  23rd,  1803. 


XVIII  EUROPE  A^TD  THE  BONAPARTES  401 

reported  the  activity  of  French  intrigues  in  the  Morea, 
which  was  doubtless  intended  to  be  their  halfway  house  to 
Egypt  —  "  when  sooner  or  later,  farewell  India."  ^  Proofs 
of  Napoleon's  designs  on  the  Morea  were  found  by  Cap- 
tain Keats  of  H.Ai.S.  "Superb"  on  a  French  vessel  that 
he  captured,  a  French  corporal  having  on  him  a  secret 
letter  from  an  agent  at  Corfu,  dated  May  23rd,  1803.  It 
ended  thus : 

**  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  we  shall  soon  have  a  revolu- 
tion in  the  Morea,  as  we  desire.  I  have  close  relations  with  Crepacchi, 
and  we  are  in  daily  correspondence  with  all  the  chiefs  of  the  Morea : 
we  have  even  provided  them  with  munitions  of  war."  ^ 


On  the  whole,  however,  it  seems  probable  that  Napoleon's 
chief  aim  now  was  London  and  not  Egypt ;  but  his  dem- 
onstrations eastwards  were  so  skilfully  maintained  as  to 
convince  both  the  English  Government  and  Nelson  that 
his  real  aim  was  Egypt  or  Malta.  For  this  project  the 
French  corps  d'armSe  in  the  "  heel "  of  Italy  held  a  com- 
manding position.  Ships  alone  were  wanting  ;  and  these 
he  sought  to  compel  the  King  of  Naples  to  furnish.  As 
early  as  April  20th,  1803,  our  chargi  d'affaires  at  Naples, 
Mr.  a  Court,  reported  that  Napoleon  was  pressing  on  that 
Government  a  French  alliance,  on  the  ground  that — 

*'  The  interests  of  the  two  countries  are  the  same :  it  is  the  inten- 
tion of  France  to  shut  every  port  to  the  English,  from  Holland  to 
the  Turkish  dominions,  to  prevent  the  exportation  of  her  merchan- 
dise, and  to  give  a  mortal  blow  to  her  commerce,  for  there  she  is  most 
vulnerable.  Our  joint  forces  may  wrest  from  her  hands  the  island  of 
Malta.  The  Sicilian  navv  may  convoy  and  protect  the  French  troops 
in  the  prosecution  of  such  a  plan,  and  the  most  happy  result  may  be 
augured  to  their  united  exertions." 

Possibly  the  King  and  his  spirited  but  whimsical  con- 
sort. Queen  Charlotte,  might  have  bent  before  the  threats 
which  accompanied  this  alluring  offer ;  but  at  the  head 
of  the  Neapolitan  administration  was  an  Englishman,  Gen- 
eral Acton,  whose  talents  and  force  of  will  commanded 

1  Nelson's  letters  of  July  2nd.  See  too  Mahan's  **Life  of  Nelson,*' 
vol.  if.,  pp.  180-188,  and  Napoleon's  letters  of  November  24th,  1803,  en- 
couraging the  Mamelukes  to  look  to  France. 

a  (( Foreign  Of&ce  Records,"  Sicily  and  Naples,  No.  56,  July  25th. 

2d 


402  THE   LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

their  respect  and  confidence.  To  the  threats  of  the  French 
ambassador  he  answered  that  France  was  strong  and  Naples 
was  weak;  force  might  overthrow  the  dynasty ;  but  nothing 
would  induce  it  to  violate  its  neutrality  towards  England. 
So  unwonted  a  defiance  aroused  Napoleon  to  a  character- 
istic revenge.  When  his  troops  were  quartered  on  South- 
ern Italy,  and  were  draining  the  Neapolitan  resources,  the 
Queen  wrote  appealing  to  his  clemency  on  behalf  of  her 
much  burdened  people.  In  reply  he  assured  her  of  his 
desire  to  be  agreeable  to  her  :  but  how  could  he  look  on 
Naples  as  a  neutral  State,  when  its  chief  Minister  was  an 
Englishman  ?  This  was  ^^  the  real  reason  that  justified 
all  the  measures  taken  towards  Naples."^  The  brutality 
and  falseness  of  this  reply  had  no  other  effect  than  to 
embitter  Queen  Charlotte's  hatred  against  the  arbiter  of 
the  world's  destinies,  before  whom  she  and  her  consort 
refused  to  bow,  even  when,  three  years  later^  they  were 
forced  to  seek  shelter  behind  the  girdle  of  the  inviolate 
sea. 

Hanover  also  fell  into  Napoleon's  hands.  Mortier  with 
25,000  French  troops  speedily  overran  that  land  and  com- 
pelled the  Duke  of  Cambridge  to  a  capitulation.  The 
occupation  of  the  Electorate  not  only  relieved  the  French 
exchequer  of  the  support  of  a  considerable  corps  ;  it  also 
served  to  hold  in  check  the  Prussian  Court,  always  pre- 
occupied about  Hanover;  and  it  barred  the  entrance  of 
the  Elbe  and  Weser  to  British  ships,  an  aim  long  cherished 
by  Napoleon.  To  this  we  retorted  by  blockading  the 
mouths  of  those  rivers,  an  act  which  must  have  been  ex- 
pected by  Napoleon,  and  which  enabled  him  to  declaim 
against  British  maritime  tyranny.  In  truth,  the  beginnings 
of  the  Continental  System  were  now  clearly  discernible. 
The  shores  of  the  Continent  from  the  south  of  Italy  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Elbe  were  practically  closed  to  English 
ships,  while  by  a  decree  of  July  15th,  any  vessel  whatsoever 
that  had  cleared  from  a  British  port  was  to  be  excluded 
from  all  harbours  of  the  French  Republic.  Thus  all  com- 
mercial nations  were  compelled,  slowly  but  inevitably,  to 
side  with  the  master  of  the  land  or  the  mistress  of  the  seas. 

In  vain  did  the  King  of  Prussia  represent  to  Napoleon 

^  Letter  of  July  28th,  1803. 


XTiii  EUROPE  AND  THE  BONAPABTES  408 

that  Hanover  was  not  British  territory,  and  that  the 
neutrality  of  Germany  was  infringed  and  its  interests 
damaged  by  the  French  occupation  of  Hanover  and 
Cuxhaven.  His  protest  was  met  by  an  offer  from  Napo- 
leon to  evacuate  Hanover,  Taranto,  and  Otranto,  only  at 
the  time  when  England  should  ^^  evacuate  Malta  and  the 
Mediterranean  "  ;  and  though  the  special  Prussian  envoy, 
Lombard,  reported  to  his  master  that  Napoleon  was 
"  truth,  loyalty,  and  friendship  personified,"  yet  he  received 
not  a  word  that  betokened  real  regard  for  the  suscepti- 
bilities of  Frederick  William  III.  or  the  commerce  of  his 
people.^  For  the  present,  neither  King  nor  Czar  ventured 
on  further  remonstrances  ;  but  the  First  Consul  had  sown 
seeds  of  discord  which  were  to  bear  fruit  in  the  Third 
Coalition. 

Having  quartered  60,000  French  troops  on  Naples  and 
Hanover,  Napoleon  could  face  with  equanimity  the  costs 
of  the  war.  Gigantic  as  they  were,  they  could  be  met 
from  the  purchase  money  of  Lfouisiana,  the  taxation  and 
voluntary  gifts  of  the  French  dominions,  the  subsidies  of 
the  Italian  and  Ligurian  republics,  and  a  contribution 
which  he  now  exacted  from  Spain. 

Even  before  the  outbreak  of  hostilities  he  had  signifi- 
cantly reminded  Charles  IV.  that  the  Spanish  marine  was 
deteriorating,  and  her  arsenals  and  docKyards  were  idle  : 
"  But  England  is  not  asleep ;  she  is  ever  on  the  watch 
and  will  never  rest  until  she  has  seized  on  the  colonies 
and  commerce  of  the  world."  *  For  the  present,  however, 
the  loss  of  Trinidad  and  the  sale  of  Louisiana  rankled  too 
deeply  to  admit  of  Spain  entering  into  another  conflict, 
whence,  as  before,  Napoleon  would  doubtless  gain  the 

flory  and  leave  to  her  the  burden  of  territorial  sacrifices, 
n  spite  of  his  shameless  relations  to  the  Queen  of  Spain, 
Godoy,  the  Spanish  Minister,  was  not  devoid  of  patriotism ; 
and  he  strove  to  evade  the  obligations  which  the  treaty  of 
1796  imposed  on  Spain  in  case  of  an  Anglo-French  con- 
flict. He  embodied  the  militia  of  the  north  of  Spain  and 
doubtless  would  have  defied  Bonaparte's  demands,  had 
Russia  and  Prussia  shown  any  disposition  to  resist  French 

1  *'Nap.  Corresp./*  August  23rd,  1803,  and  Oncken,  ch.  v. 
*  "Corresp.,"  vol.  vui.,  No.  6627. 


404  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohaf. 

aggressions.  But  those  Powers  were  as  yet  wholly  de- 
voted to  private  interests  ;  and  when  Napoleon  threatened 
Charles  IV.  and  Godoy  with  an  inroad  of  80,000  French 
troops  unless  the  Spanish  militia  were  dissolved  and 
72,000,000  francs  were  paid  every  year  into  the  French 
exchequer,  the  Court  of  Madrid  speedily  gave  way.  Its 
surrender  was  further  assured  by  the  thinly  veiled  threat 
that  further  resistance  would  lead  to  the  exposure  of  the 
liaison  between  Godoy  and  the  Queen.  Spain  therefore 
engaged  to  pay  the  required  sum  —  more  than  double  the 
amount  stipulated  in  1796 — to  further  the  interests  of 
French  commerce  and  to  bring  pressure  to  bear  on  Portu- 
gfal.  At  the  close  of  the  year  the  Court  of  Lisbon,  yielding 
to  the  threats  of  France  and  Spain,  consented  to  purchase 
its  neutrality  by  the  payment  of  a  million  francs  a  month 
to  the  master  of  the  Continent.^ 

Meanwhile  the  First  Consul  was  throwing  his  untiring 
energies  into  the  enterprise  of  crushing  his  redoubtable 
foe.  He  pushed  on  the  naval  preparations  at  all  the  dock- 
yards of  France,  Holland,  and  North  Italy ;  the  great 
mole  that  was  to  shelter  the  roadstead  at  Cherbourg  was 
hurried  forward,  and  the  coast  from  the  Seine  to  the 
Rhine  became  '*a  coast  of  iron  and  bronze  " — to  use  Mar- 
mont's  picturesque  phrase — while  every  harbour  swarmed 
with  small  craft  destined  for  an  invasion.  Troops  were 
withdrawn  from  the  Rhenish  frontiers  and  encamped 
along  the  shores  of  Picardy  ;  others  were  stationed  in  re- 
serve at  St.  Omer,  Montreuil,  Bruges,  and  Utrecht ;  while 
smaller  camps  were  formed  at  Ghent,  Compiegne,  and  St. 
Malo.  The  banks  of  the  Elbe,  Weser,  Scheldt,  Somme, 
and  Seine  —  even  as  far  up  as  Paris  itself — rang  with  the 
blows  of  shipwrights  labouring  to  strengthen  the  flotilla 
of  flat-bottomed  vessels  designed  for  the  invasion  of  Eng- 
land. Troops,  to  the  number  of  50,000  at  Boulogne  under 
Soult,  30,000  at  Etaples,  and  as  many  at  Bruges,  com- 
manded by  Ney  and  Davoust  respectively,  were  organized 
anew,  and  by  constant  drill  and  exposure  to  the  elements 
formed  the  tough  nucleus  of  the  future  Grand  Army, 
before  which  the  choicest  troops  of  Czar  and  Kaiser  were 

iLefebvre,  *«  Cabinets  de  I'Europe,"  ch.  viii.  ;  **Nap.  Correep.,*'  voL 
viii.,  Nob.  6979,  6986,  7007,  7098,  7113. 


xTm        EUROPE  AND  THE  BONAPABTES         406 

to  be  scattered  in  headlong  rout.  To  all  these  many-sided 
exertions  of  organization  and  drill,  of  improving  harbours 
and  coast  fortifications,  of  ship-building,  testing,  embark- 
ing, and  disembarking,  the  First  Consul  now  and  again 
applied  the  spur  of  his  personal  supervision;  for  while  the 
warlike  enthusiasm  which  he  had  aroused  against  perfidi- 
ous Albion  of  itself  achieved  wonders,  yet  work  was  never 
so  strenuous  and  exploits  so  daring  as  under  the  eyes  of 
the  great  captain  himself.  He  therefore  paid  frequent 
visits  to  the  north  coast,  surveying  with  critical  eyes  the 
works  at  Boulogne,  Calais,  DunKirk,  Ostend,  and  Ant- 
werp. The  last-named  port  engaged  his  special  attention. 
Its  position  at  the  head  of  the  navigable  estuary  of  the 
Scheldt,  exactly  opposite  the  Thames,  marked  it  out  as 
the  natural  rival  of  London  ;  he  now  encouraged  its  com- 
merce and  ordered  the  construction  of  a  dockyard  fitted 
to  contain  twenty-five  battleships  and  a  proportionate 
number  of  frigates  and  sloops.  Antwerp  was  to  become 
the  great  commercial  and  naval  emporium  of  the  North 
Sea.  The  time  seemed  to  favour  the  design ;  Hamburg 
and  Bremen  were  blockaded,  and  London  for  a  space  was 
menaced  by  the  growing  power  of  the  First  Consul,  who 
seemed  destined  to  restore  to  the  Flemish  port  the  pros- 
perity which  the  savagery  of  Alva  had  swept  away  with 
such  profit  to  Elizabethan  London.  But  grand  as  were 
Napoleon's  enterprises  at  Antwerp,  they  feU  far  short  of 
his  ulterior  designs.  He  told  Las  Cases  at  St.  Helena 
that  the  dockyard  and  magazines  were  to  have  been  pro- 
tected by  a  gigantic  fortress  built  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  River  Scheldt,  and  that  Antwerp  was  to  have  been  *^a 
loaded  pistol  held  at  the  head  of  England." 

In  both  lands  warlike  ardour  rose  to  the  highest  pitch. 
French  towns  and  Departments  freely  offered  gifts  of  gun- 
boats and  battleships.  And  in  England  public  men  vied 
with  one  another  in  their  eagerness  to  equip  and  maintain 
volunteer  regiments.  Wordsworth,  who  had  formerly 
sung  the  praises  of  the  French  Revolution,  thus  voiced 
the  national  defiance : 

<* No  parleying  now  1  In  Britain  is  one  breath; 
We  all  are  with  you  now  from  shore  to  shore  ; 
Te  men  of  Kent,  'tis  victory  or  death." 


400  THE  LIFE  OF  NAFOLEOH  I  ckaf. 

In  one  respect  England  enjoyed  a  notable  advantage. 
Having  declared  war  before  Napoleon's  plans  were  ma- 
tared,  she  held  the  command  of  the  seas,  even  against  the 
naval  resources  of  France,  Holland,  and  North  Italy.  The 
first  months  of  the  war  witnessed  the  surrender  of  St.  Lucia 
and  Tobago  to  our  fleets  ;  and  before  the  close  of  the  year 
Berbice,  Demerara,  Essequibo,  together  with  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  French  St.  Domingo  force,  had  capitulated 
to  the  Union  Jack.  Our  naval  supremacy  in  the  Channel 
now  told  with  full  effect.  Frigates  were  ever  on  the 
watch  in  the  Straits  to  chase  any  French  vessels  that  left 
port.  But  our  chief  efforts  were  to  blockade  the  enemy's 
ships.  Despite  constant  ill-health  and  frequent  gales, 
Nelson  clung  to  Toulon.  Admiral  Comwallis  cruised  off 
Brest  with  a  fleet  generally  exceeding  fifteen  sail  of  the 
line  and  several  smaller  vessels  :  six  frigates  and  smaller 
craft  protected  the  coast  of  Ireland ;  six  line-of -battle 
ships  and  twenty-three  lesser  vessels  were  kept  in  the 
Downs  under  Lord  Keith  as  a  central  reserve  force,  to 
which  the  news  of  all  events  transpiring  on  the  enemy's 
coast  was  speedily  conveyed  by  despatch  boats  ;  the  newly 
invented  semaphore  telegraphs  were  also  systematically 
used  between  the  Isle  of  Wight  and  Deal  to  convey  news 
along  the  coast  and  to  London.  Martello  towers  were 
erected  along  the  coast  from  Harwich  to  Pevensey  Bay, 
at  the  points  where  a  landing  was  easy.  Numerous  inven- 
tors also  came  forward  with  plans  for  aestroying  the  French 
flotilla,  but  none  was  found  to  be  serviceable  except  the 
rockets  of  Colonel  Congreve,  which  inflicted  some  damage 
at  Boulogne  and  elsewhere.  Such  were  the  dispositions 
of  our  chief  naval  forces :  they  comprised  469  ships  of  war, 
and  over  700  armed  boats,  of  all  sizes.  ^ 

Our  regular  troops  and  militia  mustered  180,000  strong ; 
while  the  volunteers,  including  120,000  men  armed  with 

f>ike8  or  similar  weapons,  numbered  410,000.  Of  cotirse 
ittle  could  be  hoped  from  these  last  in  a  conflict  with 
French  veterans  ;  and  even  the  regulars,  in  the  absence 
of  any  great  generals  —  for  Wellesley  was  then  in  India  — 

^  The  French  and  Dutch  ships  in  commiasion  were :  shifM  of  the  line, 
48 ;  frigates,  37  ;  corvettes,  22  ;  gun-brigs,  etc.,  124 ;  flotilla,  2,115.  (See 
''  Merns.  of  the  Earl  of  St.  Vincent,'*  voL  IL,  p.  218.) 


XTin  EUROPE  AND  THE  BONAPABTBS  407 

might  have  offered  but  a  poor  resistance  to  Napoleon's 
military  machine.  Preparations  were,  however,  made  for 
a  desperate  resistance.  Plans  were  quietly  framed  for  the 
transfer  of  the  Queen  and  the  royal  family  to  Worcester, 
along  with  the  public  treasure,  which  was  to  be  lodged  in 
the  cathedral ;  while  the  artillery  and  stores  from  W  ool- 
wich  arsenal  were  to  be  conveyed  into  the  Midlands  by  the 
Grand  Junction  Canal.  ^ 

The  scheme  of  coast-defence  which  General  Dundas 
had  drawn  up  in  1796  was  now  again  set  in  action.  It  in- 
cluded, not  only  the  disposition  of  the  armed  forces,  but 
plans  for  the  systematic  removal  of  all  provisions,  stores, 
animals,  and  fodder  from  the  districts  threatened  by  the 
invader ;  and  it  is  clear  that  the  country  was  far  better 
prepared  than  French  writers  have  been  willing  to  admit. 
Indeed,  so  great  was  the  expense  of  these  defensive  prep- 
arations that,  when  Nelson's  return  from  the  West  Indies 
disconcerted  the  enemy's  plans.  Fox  merged  the  statesman 
in  the  partisan  by  the  curious  assertion  that  the  invasion 
scare  had  been  got  up  by  the  Pitt  Ministry  for  party  pur- 
poses.^ Few  persons  shared  that  opinion.  The  nation 
was  animated  by  a  patriotism  such  as  had  never  yet  stirred 
the  sluggish  veins  of  Georgian  England.  The  Jacobinism, 
which  Dundas  in  1796  had  lamented  as  paralyzing  the 
nation's  energy,  had  wholly  vanished ;  and  the  fatality 
which  dogged  the  steps  of  Napoleon  was  already  discerni- 
ble. The  mingled  hatred  and  fear  which  he  inspired 
outside  France  was  beginning  to  solidify  the  national 
resistance :  after  uniting  rich  and  poor,  English  and  Scots 
in  a  firm  phalanx  in  the  United  Kingdom,  the  national 
principle  was  in  turn  to  vivify  Spain,  Russia,  and  Ger- 
many, and  thus  to  assure  his  overthrow. 

Reserving  for  consideration  in  another  chapter  the  later 
developments  of  the  naval  war,  it  will  be  convenient  now 
to  turn  to  important  events  in  the  history  of  the  Bona- 
parte family. 

The  loves  and  intrigues  of  the  Bonapartes  have  fur- 
nished material  enough  to  fill  several  volumes  devoted  to 
light  gossip,  and  naturally  so.    Given  an  ambitious  family, 

1  Pellew's  "Life  of  Lord  Sldmouth,"  vol.  il.,  p.  239. 
>  Stanhope's  "Life  of  Pitt,"  vol.  iy.,  p.  213. 


408  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  oiulf. 

styled  parventis  by  the  ungenerous,  shooting  aloft  swiftly 
as  the  flames  of  Vesuvius,  ardent  as  its  inner  fires,  and 
stubborn  as  its  hardened  lava — given  also  an  imperious 
brother  determined  to  marry  his  younger  brothers  and 
sisters,  not  as  they  willed,  but  as  he  willed  —  and  it  is 
clear  that  materials  are  at  hand  sufficient  to  make  the 
fortunes  of  a  dozen  comediettas. 

To  the  marriage  of  Pauline  Bonaparte  only  the  briefest 
reference  need  here  be  made.  The  wild  humour  of  her 
blood  showed  itself  before  her  first  marriage ;  and  after 
the  death  of  her  husband,  General  Leclerc,  in  San  Do- 
mingo, she  privately  espoused  Prince  Borghese  before  the 
legal  time  of  mourning  had  expired,  an  indiscretion  which 
much  annoyed  Napoleon  (August,  1803).  Ultimately 
this  brilliant,  frivolous  creature  resided  in  the  splendid 
mansion  which  now  forms  the  British  embassy  in  Paris. 
The  case  of  Louis  Bonaparte  was  somewhat  different. 
Nurtured  as  he  had  been  in  his  early  years  by  Napoleon, 
he  had  rewarded  him  by  contracting  a  dutiful  match  with 
Hortense  Beauharnais  (January,  1802)  ;  but  that  union 
was  to  be  marred  by  a  grotesquely  horrible  jealousy 
which  the  young  husband  soon  conceived  for  his  powerful 
brother. 

For  the  present,  however,  the  chief  trouble  was  caused 
by  Lucien,  whose  address  had  saved  matters  at  the  few 
critical  minutes  of  Brumaire.  Gifted  with  a  strong  vein 
of  literary  feeling  and  oratorical  fire,  he  united  in  his 
person  the  obstinacy  of  a  Bonaparte,  the  headstrong  feel- 
ings of  a  poet,  and  the  dogmatism  of  a  Corsican  republi- 
can. His  presumptuous  conduct  had  already  embroiled 
him  with  the  First  Consul,  who  deprived  him  of  his 
Ministry  and  sent  him  as  ambassador  to  Madrid.^  He 
further  sinned,  first  by  hurrying  on  peace  with  Portugal 
—  it  is  said  for  a  handsome  present  from  Lisbon  —  and 
later  by  refusing  to  marry  the  widow  of  the  King  of 
Etruria.  In  this  he  persisted,  despite  the  urgent  repre- 
sentations of  Napoleon  and  Joseph  :  "  You  know  very  well 
that  I  am  a  republican,  and  that  a  queen  is  not  what  suits 
me,  an  ugly  queen  too  I "  — "What  a  pity  your  answer  was 
not  cut  short,  it  would  have  been  quite  Roman,"  sneered 

1  Roederer,  "  GEuYres,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  848  ;  M^neval,  voL  i.,  ch.  iv. 


;    llONAPARTK. 


xvin  EUROPE  AND  THE  BONAPABTES  400 

Joseph  at  his  younger  brother,  once  the  Brutus  of  the 
Jacobin  clubs.  But  Lucien  was  proof  against  all  the 
splendours  of  the  royal  match ;  he  was  madly  in  love 
with  a  Madame  Jouberthon,  the  deserted  wife  of  a  Paris 
stockbroker ;  and  in  order  to  checkmate  all  Napoleon's 
attempts  to  force  on  a  hated  union,  he  had  secretly  mar- 
ried the  lady  of  his  choice  at  the  village  of  Plessis- 
Chamant,  hard  by  his  country  house  (October  26th,  1803). 

The  letter  which  divulged  the  news  of  this  affair  reached 
the  First  Consul  at  St.  Cloud  on  an  interesting  occasion.^ 
It  was  during  a  so-called  family  concert,  to  which  only 
the  choicest  spirits  had  been  invited,  whence  also,  to 
Josephine's  chagrin,  Napoleon  had  excluded  Madame 
Tallien  £md  several  other  old  friends,  whose  reputation 
would  have  tainted  the  air  of  religion  and  morality  now 
pervading  the  Consular  Court.  While  this  select  com- 
pany was  enjoying  the  strains  of  the  chamber  music,  and 
Napoleon  alone  was  dozing,  Lucien's  missive  was  handed 
in  by  the  faithful  if  indiscreet  Duroc.  A  change  came 
over  the  scene.  At  once  Napoleon  started  up,  called  out 
"  Stop  the  music  :  stop,"  and  began  with  nervous  strides 
and  agitated  gestures  to  pace  the  hall,  exclaiming  ^^  Trea- 
son !  ^it  is  treason  !  "  Round-eyed,  open-mouthed  wonder 
seized  on  the  disconcerted  musicians,  the  company  rose  in 
confusion,  and  Josephine,  following  her  spouse,  besought 
him  to  say  what  had  happened.  "  What  has  happened  — 
why  —  Lucien  has  married  his  —  mistress."  ^ 

The  secret  cause  for  this  climax  of  fashionable  comedy 
is  to  be  sought  in  reasons  of  state.  The  establishment  of 
hereditary  power  was  then  being  secretly  and  anxiously 
discussed.  Napoleon  had  no  heirs :  Joseph's  children 
were  girls :  Lucien's  first  marriage  also  had  naught  but 
female  issue  :  the  succession  must  therefore  devolve  on 
Lucien's  children  by  a  second  marriage.  But  a  natural 
son  had  already  been  born  to  bim  by  Madame  Jouberthon  ; 
and  his  marriage  now  promised  to  make  this  bastard  the 

^  Lucien  (*^  Mems.,'*  vol.  ill.,  pp.  316-320)  says  at  Malmaison ;  but  Na- 
poleon's ^'Correspondance'*  shows  that  it  was  at  St.  Cloud.  Masson 
(*'  Nap.  et  sa  Famille/*  ch.  zii.)  throws  doubt  on  the  story. 

^  Ibid,,  p.  318.  The  scene  was  described  by  Murat :  the  real  phiaae 
was  coquine,  but  it  was  softened  down  by  Murat  to  mattre$$e. 


410  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap. 

heir  to  the  future  French  imperial  throne.  That  was 
the  reason  why  Napoleon  paced  the  hall  at  St.  Cloud, 
^^  waving  his  arm  like  a  semaphore,"  and  exclaiming 
"  treason ! "  Failing  the  birth  of  sons  to  the  two  elder 
brothers,  Lucien's  marriage  seriously  endangered  the 
foundation  of  a  Napoleonic  dynasty;  besides,  the  whole 
affair  would  yield  excellent  sport  to  the  royalists  of 
the  Boulevard  St.  Germain,  the  snarling  Jacobins  of 
the  back  streets,  and  the  newspaper  writers  of  hated 
Albion. 

In  vain  were  negotiations  set  on  foot  to  make  Lucien 
divorce  his  wife.  The  attempt  only  produced  exaspera- 
tion, Joseph  himself  finally  accusing  Napoleon  of  bad 
faith  in  the  course  of  this  affair.  In  the  following 
springtime  Lucien  shook  off  the  dust  of  France  from 
his  feet,  and  declared  in  a  last  letter  to  Joseph  that  he 
departed,  hating  Napoleon.  The  moral  to  this  curious 
story  was  well  pointed  by  Joseph  Bonaparte :  "  Des- 
tiny seems  to  blind  us,  and  intends,  by  means  of  our 
own  faults,  to  restore  France  some  day  to  her  former 
rulers."^ 

At  the  very  time  of  the  scene  at  St.  Cloud,  fortune 
was  preparing  for  the  First  Consul  another  matrimonial 
trouble.  His  youngest  brother,  Jerome,  then  aged  nine- 
teen years,  had  shown  much  aptitude  for  the  French  navy, 
and  was  serving  on  the  American  station,  when  a  quarrel 
with  the  admiral  sent  him  flying  in  disgust  to  the  shore. 
There,  at  Baltimore,  he  fell  in  love  with  Miss  Paterson, 
the  daughter  of  a  well-to-do  merchant,  and  sought  her 
hand  in  marriage.  In  vain  did  the  French  consul  remind 
him  that,  were  he  five  years  older,  he  would  still  need  the 
consent  of  his  mother.  The  headstrong  nature  of  his 
race  brooked  no  opposition,  and  he  secretly  espoused  the 
young  lady  at  her  father's  residence.  Napoleon's  ire  fell 
like  a  blasting  wind  on  the  young  couple  ;  but  after  wait- 
ing some  time,  in  hopes  that  the  storm  would  blow  over, 
they  ventured  to  come  to  Europe.  Thereupon  Napoleon 
wrote  to  Madame  Mere  in  these  terms  : 

^  Miot  de  Mellto,  **Mem8.,'*  vol.  i.,  ch.  xv.  Laden  settled  in  the 
Papal  States,  where  he,  the  quondam  Jacobin  and  proven  libertine,  later 
on  received  from  the  Pope  the  title  of  Prince  de  Canino. 


xvui  EUROPE  AND  THE  BONAPARTES  411 

« Jerome  has  arrived  at  Lisbon  with  the  woman  with  whom  he 
lives.  ...  I  have  given  orders  that  Miss  Paterson  is  to  be  sent  back 
to  America.  .  .  .  fi  he  shows  no  inclination  to  wash  away  the  dis- 
honour  with  which  he  has  stained  my  name,  by  forsaking  his  country's 
flag  on  land  and  sea  for  the  sake  of  a  wretched  woman,  I  will  cast  him 
off  for  ever."  * 

The  sequel  will  show  that  Jerome  was  made  of  softer 
stuff  than  Lucien ;  and,  strange  to  say,  his  compliance 
with  Napoleon*s  dynastic  designs  provided  that  family 
with  the  only  legitimate  male  heirs  that  were  destined  to 
sustain  its  wavering  hopes  to  the  end  of  the  century. 

1 ''  Lettres  in^tes  de  Napolten,'*  April  22nd,  1806. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  ROYALIST  PLOT 

From  domestic  comedy,  France  turned  rapidly  in  the 
early  months  of  1804  to  a  sombre  tragedy  —  the  tragedy 
of  the  Georges  Cadoudal  plot  and  the  execution  of  the 
Due  d'Enghien. 

There  were  varied  reasons  why  the  exiled  French  Bour- 
bons should  compass  the  overthrow  of  Napoleon.  Every 
month  that  they  delayed  action  lessened  their  chances  of 
success.  They  had  long  clung  to  the  hope  that  his  Con- 
cordat with  the  Pope  and  other  anti-revolutionary  meas- 
ures betokened  his  intention  to  recall  their  dynasty.  But 
in  February,  1803,  the  Comte  de  Provence  received  over- 
tures which  showed  that  Bonaparte  had  never  thought  of 
playing  the  part  of  General  Monk.  The  exiled  prince, 
then  residing  at  Warsaw,  was  courteously  but  most  firmly 
urged  by  the  First  Consul  to  renounce  both  for  himself 
and  for  the  other  members  of  his  .House  all  claims  to  the 
throne  of  France,  in  return  for  which  he  would  receive  a 
pension  of  two  million  francs  a  year.  The  notion  of  sink- 
ing to  the  level  of  a  pensionary  of  the  French  Republic 
touched  Bourbon  pride  to  the  quick  and  provoked  this 
spirited  reply : 

'*  Ab  a  descendant  of  St.  Loais,  I  shall  endeavour  to  imitate  his  ex- 
ample by  respecting  myself  eyen  in  captivity.  As  successor  to  Francis 
I.,  I  shall  at  least  aspire  to  say  with  him :  <  We  have  lost  everything 
but  our  honour/  ** 

To  this  declaration  the  Comte  d'Artois,  his  son,  the  Due 
de  Berri,  Louis  Philippe  of  Orleans,  his  two  sons,  and  the 
two  Condes  gave  their  ardent  assent ;  and  the  same  royal 
response  came  from  the  young  Conde,  the  Due  d'Enghien, 
dated  Ettenheim,  March  22nd,  1803.  Little  did  men 
think  when  they  read  this  last  defiance  to  Napoleon  that 

412 


CHAP.  XIX  THE  ROYALIST  PLOT  418 

within  a  year  its  author  would  be  flung  into  a  grave  in 
the  moat  of  the  Castle  of  Vincennes. 

Scarcely  had  the  echoes  of  the  Bourbon  retorts  died 
away  than  the  outbreak  of  war  between  England  and 
France  raised  the  hopes  of  the  French  royalist  exiles  in 
London  ;  and  their  nimble  fancy  pictured  the  French 
army  and  nation  as  ready  to  fling  themselves  at  the  feet 
of  Louis  XVIII.  The  future  monarch  did  not  share  these 
illusions.  In  the  chilly  solitudes  of  Warsaw  he  discerned 
matters  in  their  true  light,  and  prepared  to  wait  until  the 
vaulting  ambition  of  Napoleon  should  league  Europe 
against  him.  Indeed,  when  the  plans  of  the  forward 
wing  in  London  were  explained  to  him,  with  a  view  of 
enlisting  his  support,  he  deftly  waved  aside  the  embar- 
rassing overtures  by  quoting  the  lines  : 

"  Et  pour  etre  approuv^ 
De  semblables  projets  veuleDt  dtre  achev^," 

a  cautious  reply  which  led  his  brother,  then  at  Edinburgh, 
scornfully  to  contemn  his  feebleness  as  unworthy  of  any 
further  confidences.^  In  truth,  the  Comte  d'Artois,  des- 
tined one  day  to  be  Charles  X.  of  France,  was  not 
fashioned  by  nature  for  a  Fabian  policy  of  delay :  not 
even  the  misfortunes  of  exile  could  instil  into  the  water- 
tight compartments  of  his  brain  the  most  elementary 
notions  of  prudence.  Daring,  however,  attracts  daring ; 
and  this  prince  had  gathered  around  him  in  our  land  the 
most  desperate  of  the  French  royalists,  whose  hopes, 
hatreds,  schemes,  and  unending  requests  for  British  money 
may  be  scanned  by  the  curious  in  some  thirty  large  vol- 
umes of  letters  bequeathed  by  their  factotum,  the  Comte 
de  Puisaye,  to  the  British  Museum.  Unfortunately  this 
correspondence  throws  little  light  on  the  details  of  the 
plot  which  is  fitly  called  by  the  name  of  Georges 
Cadoudal. 

This  daring  Breton  was,  in  fact,  the  only  man  of  action 
on  whom  the  Bourbon  princes  could  firmly  rely  for  an 


^Pasqnier,  **  Mems.,**  vol.  i.,  p.  167,  and  Boulay  de  la  Meurthe,  **Le8 
demi^res  Annies  du  due  d*Enghien/*  p.  209.  An  intriguing  royalist  of 
Neufch&tel,  Fauche-Borel,  had  been  to  England  in  1802  to  get  the  help 
of  the  Addington  Ministry,  but  failed.  See  Caudrillier^s  articles  in  Uie 
"Bevue  Historique,''  Nov.,  1900-March,  1901. 


414  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  cuat. 

enterprise  that  demanded  a  cool  head,  cunning  in  the 
choice  of  means,  and  a  remorseless  hand.  Pichegru,  it  is 
true,  lived  near  London,  but  saw  little  of  the  SmigrSs,  ex- 
cept the  venerable  Conde.  Dumouriez  also  was  in  the 
great  city,  but  his  name  was  too  generally  scorned  in 
France  for  his  treachery  in  1793  to  warrant  his  being 
used.  But  there  were  plenty  of  swashbucklers  who 
could  prepare  the  ground  in  France,  or,  if  fortune 
favoured,  might  strike  the  blow  themselves  ;  and  a  small 
committee  of  French  royalists,  which  had  the  support  of 
that  furious  royalist,  Mr.  Windham,  M.P.,  began  even 
before  the  close  of  1802  to  discuss  plans  for  the  "re- 
moval "  of  Bonaparte.  Two  of  their  tools,  Picot  and  Le 
Bourgeois  by  name,  plunged  blindly  into  a  plot,  and  were 
arrested  soon  after  they  set  foot  in  France.  Their  boyish 
credulity  seems  to  have  suggested  to  the  French  authori- 
ties the  sending  of  an  agent  so  as  to  entrap  not  only 
French  SmigrSB^  but  also  English  officials  and  Jacobinical 
generals. 

The  otgent  provocateur  has  at  all  times  been  a  favourite 
tool  of  continental  Governments :  but  rarely  has  a  more 
finished  specimen  of  the  class  been  seen  than  Mehee  de 
la  Touche.  After  plying  the  trade  of  an  assassin  in  the 
September  massacres  of  1792,  and  of  a  Jacobin  spy  during 
the  Terror,  he  had  been  included  by  Bonaparte  among 
the  Jacobin  scapegoats  who  expiated  the  Chouan  outrage 
of  Nivose.  Pining  in  the  weariness  of  exile,  he  heard 
from  his  wife  that  he  might  be  pardoned  if  he  would  per- 
form some  service  for  the  Consular  Government.  At 
once  he  consented,  and  it  was  agreed  that  he  should  feign 
royalism,  should  \i^orm  himself  into  the  secrets  of  the 
imigrH  at  London,  and  act  as  intermediary  between  them 
and  the  discontented  republicans  of  Paris. 

The  man  who  seems  to  have  planned  this  scheme  was 
the  ex-Minister  of  Police.  Fouche  had  lately  been  de- 
prived by  Bonaparte  of  the  inquisitorial  powers  which  he 
so  unscrupulously  used.  His  duties  were  divided  between 
Regnier,  the  GrUnd  Judge  and  Minister  of  Justice,  and 
Real,  a  Councillor  of  State,  who  watched  over  the  inter- 
nal security  of  France.  These  men  had  none  of  the 
ability  of  Fouche,  nor  did  they  know  at  the  outset  what 


XIX  THE  ROYALIST  PLOT  416 

Mehee  was  doing  in  London.  It  may,  therefore,  be 
assumed  that  Mehee  was  one  of  Fouche's  creatures,  whom 
he  used  to  discredit  his  successor,  and  that  Bonaparte 
welcomed  this  means  of  quickening  the  zeal  of  the  official 
police,  while  he  also  wove  his  meshes  round  plotting 
SmiffrSs,  English  officials,  and  French  generals.^ 

Among  these  last  there  was  almost  chronic  discontent, 
and  Bonaparte  claimed  to  have  found  out  a  plot  whereby 
twelve  of  them  should  divide  France  into  as  many  por- 
tions, leaving  to  him  only  Paris  and  its  environs.  If  so, 
he  never  made  any  use  of  his  discovery.  In  fact,  out  of 
this  ^roup  of  malcontents,  Moreau,  Bernadotte,  Augereau, 
Macdonald,  and  others,  he  feared  only  the  hostility  of  the 
first.  The  victor  of  Hohenlinden  lived  in  sullen  privacy 
near  to  Paris,  refusing  to  present  himself  at  the  Consular 
Court,  and  showing  his  contempt  for  those  who  donned  a 
courtier's  uniform.  He  openly  mocked  at  the  Concordat; 
and  when  the  Legion  of  Honour  was  instituted,  he  be- 
stowed a  collar  of  honour  upon  his  dog.  So  keen  was 
Napoleon's  resentment  at  this  raillery  that  he  even  pro- 
posed to  send  him  a  challenge  to  a  duel  in  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne.^  The  challenge,  of  course,  was  not  sent;  a 
show  of  reconciliation  was  assumed  between  the  two  war- 
riors ;  but  Napoleon  retained  a  covert  dislike  of  the  man 
whose  brusque  republicanism  was  applauded  by  a  large 
portion  of  the  army  and  by  the  frondeurs  of  Paris. 

The  ruin  of  Moreau,  and  the  confusion  alike  of  French 
royalists  and  of  the  British  Ministry,  could  now  be  assured 
by  the  encouragement  of  a  Jacobin-Royalist  conspiracy, 
in  which  English  officials  should  be  implicated.  Moreau 
was  notoriously  incapable  in  the  sphere  of  political  in- 
trigue :  the  royalist  coteries  in  London  presented  just  the 
material  on  which  the  agent  provocateur  delights  to  work ; 
and  some  British  officials  could,  doubtless,  with  equal  ease 
be  drawn  into  the  toils.  Mehee  de  la  Touche  has  left  a 
highly  spiced  account  of  his  adventures ;  but  it  must,  of 
course,  be  received  with  distrust.* 

Proceeding  first  to  Guernsey,  he  gained  the  confidence 

1  Madelin's  **Fouch^,"  vol.  i.,  p.  368,  minimizes  Fonch^'s  rdle  here. 

^  Desmareet,  **  T^moignages  historiques/*  pp.  78-82. 

*  **  Alliance  dee  Jacobins  de  France  avec  le  Ministdre  Anglais.*' 


416  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

of  the  Governor,  General  Doyle  ;  and,  fortified  by  recom- 
mendations from  him,  he  presented  himself  to  the  SmigrSt 
at  London,  and  had  an  interview  with  Lord  Hawkesbury 
and  the  Under-Secretaries  of  State,  Messrs.  Hammond  and 
Yorke.  He  found  it  easy  to  inflame  the  imagination  of 
the  French  exiles,  who  clutched  at  the  proposed  union 
between  the  irreconcilables,  the  extreme  royalists,  and  the 
extreme  republicans ;  and  it  was  forthwith  arranged  that 
Napoleon's  power,  which  rested  on  the  support  of  the  peas- 
ants, in  fact  of  the  body  of  France,  should  be  crushed  by 
an  enveloping  move  of  the  tips  of  the  wings. 

Mehee's  narrative  contains  few  details  and  dates,  such 
as  enable  one  to  test  his  assertions.  But  I  have  examined 
the  Puisaye  Papers,^  and  also  the  Foreign  and  Home  Office 
archives,  and  have  found  proofs  of  the  complicity  of  our 
Government,  which  it  wiU  be  well  to  present  here  con- 
nectedly. Taken  singly  they  are  inconclusive,  but  col- 
lectively their  importance  is  considerable.  In  our  Foreign 
Office  Records  (France,  No.  70)  there  is  a  letter,  dated 
London,  August  80th,  1803,  from  the  BarQnjifiJBtOll,  the 
factotum  of  the  exiled  Bourbons,  to  Mr.  Hammond  our 
Permanent  Under-Secretary  at  the  Foreign  Office,  asking 
him  to  call  on  the  Comte  d'Artois  at  his  residence.  No.  46, 
Baker  Street.  That  the  deliberations  at  that  house  were 
not  wholly  peaceful  appears  from  a  long  secret  memoran- 
dum of  October  24th,  1803,  in  which  the  Comte  d'Artois 
reviews  the  career  of  "that  muerdble  adventurer''^  (Bona- 
parte), so  as  to  prove  that  his  present  position  is  precarious 
and  tottering.  He  concludes  by  naming  those  who  desired 
his  overthrow  —  Moreau,  Reynier,  Bernadotte,  Simon, 
Massena,  Lannes,  and  Ferino :  Sieyes,  Carnot,  Chenier, 
Fouche,  Barras,  Tallien,  Bewbell,  Lamarque,  and  Jean  de 
Bry.  Others  would  not  attack  him  "  corps  a  corps,"  but 
disliked  his  supremacy.  These  two  papers  prove  that  our 
Government  was  aware  of  the  Bourbon  plot.  Another 
document,  dated  London,  November  18th,  1803,  proves  its 
active  complicity.  It  is  a  list  of  the  French  royalist 
officers  "  who  had  set  out  or  were  ready  to  set  out."  All 
were  in  our  pay,  two  at  six  shillings,  five  at  four  shillings, 
and  nine  at  two  shillings  a  day.     It  would  be  indelicate  to 

1  Brit  Mas.,  ''Add.  MSS.,"  No8.  7976  et  teg. 


XIX  THE  ROYALIST  PLOT  417 

reveal  the  names,  but  among  them  occurs  that  of  Joachim 
P.  J.  Cadoudal.  The  list  is  drawn  up  and  signed  by 
Frieding  —  a  name  that  was  frequently  used  by  Pichegru 
as  an  alias.  In  his  handwriting  also  is  a  list  of  "  royalist 
ofiGicers  for  whom  I  demand  a  year's  pay  in  advance  "  — 
five  generals,  thirteen  chefs  de  Ugion^  seventeen  chefs  de 
bcUaUlon^  and  nineteen  captains.  The  pay  claimed  amounts 
to  j£3,110  15^.^  That  some,  at  least,  of  our  Admiralty 
officials  also  aided  Cadoudal  is  proved  by  a  ^'  most  secret " 
letter,  dated  Admiralty  Office,  July  81st,  1803,  from 
£.  N[epean]  to  Admiral  Montagu  in  the  Downs,  charging 
him  to  help  the  bearer.  Captain  Wright,  in  the  execution 
of  "a  verv  important  service,"  and  to  provide  for  him 
"one  of  the  best  of  the  hired  cutters  or  luggers  under 
your  orders."  Another  "  most  secret "  Admiralty  letter, 
of  January  9th,  1804,  orders  a  frigate  or  large  sloop  to  be 
got  ready  to  convey  secretly  "  an  officer  of  rank  and  con- 
sideration "  (probably  Pichegru)  to  the  French  coast. 
Wright  carried  over  the  conspirators  in  several  parties, 
until  chance  threw  him  into  Napoleon's  power  and  con- 
signed him  to  an  ignominious  death,  probably  suicide. 

Finally,  there  is  the  letter  of  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  Parlia- 
mentary Secretary  at  the  Foreign  Office  (dated  March 
12th,  1804),  to  Sir  Arthur  Paget,  in  which  he  refers  to 
the  "  sad  result  of  all  our  fine  projects  for  the  re-establish- 
ment of  the  Bourbons :  ...  we  are,  of  course,  greatly 
apprehensive  for  poor  Moreau's  safety."* 

In  face  of  this  damning  evidence  the  ministerial  denials 
of  complicity  must  be  swept  aside.*  It  is  possible,  how- 
ever, that  the  plot  was  connived  at,  not  by  the  more  re- 
spectable chiefs,  but  by  young  and  hot-headed  officials. 
Even  in  the  summer  of  1803  that  Cabinet  was  already 
tottering  under  the  attacks  of  the  Whigs  and  the  followers 
of  Pitt.     The  blandly  respectable  Addington  and  Hawkes- 


^  In  our  Records  (France,  No.  71)  is  a  letter  of  Count  Descars,  dated 
London,  March  25th,  1806,  to  Lord  Mulgrave,  Minister  for  War,  render- 
ing an  account  for  various  sums  advanced  by  our  Government  for  the 
royalist  ''army." 

a  **  Paget  Papers,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  06. 

s ''  Pari.  Debates,"  April,  1804  (esp.  April  16th).  The  official  denial 
is,  of  course,  accepted  by  Alison,  en.  xzzviii. 

2b 


418  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

bury  with  his  "vacant  grin*'^  were  evidently  no  match 
for  Napoleon  ;  and  Arbuthnot  himself  dubs  Addington 
"  a  poor  wretch  universally  despised  and  laught  at,'*  and 
pronounces  the  Cabinet  "the  most  inefficient  that  ever 
curst  a  country."  I  judge,  therefore,  that  our  official  aid 
to  the  conspirators  was  limited  to  the  Under-Secretaries 
of  the  Foreign,  War,  and  Admiralty  Offices.  Moreover, 
the  royalist  plans,  as  revealed  to  our  officials^  mainly  con- 
cerned a  rising  in  Normandy  and  Brittany.  Our  Govern- 
ment would  not  have  paid  the  salaries  of  fifty-four  royalist 
officers  —  many  of  them  of  good  old  French  families  —  if 
it  had  been  only  a  question  of  stabbing  Napoleon.  The 
lists  of  those  officers  were  drawn  up  here  in  November, 
1803,  that  is,  three  months  after  Georges  Cadoudal  had 
set  out  for  Normandy  and  Paris  to  collect  his  desperadoes  ; 
and  it  seems  most  probable  that  the  officers  of  the  "  royal 
army  "  were  expected  merely  to  clinch  Cadoudal's  enter- 
prise by  rekindling  the  flame  of  revolt  in  the  north  and 
west.  French  agents  were  trying  to  do  the  same  in  Ire- 
land, and  a  plot  for  the  murder  of  George  III.  was  thought 
to  have  been  connived  at  by  the  French  authorities.  But, 
when  all  is  said,  the  British  Government  must  stand  ac- 
cused of  one  of  the  most  heinous  of  crimes.  The  whole 
truth  was  not  known  at  Paris  ;  but  it  was  surmised  ;  and 
the  surmise  was  sufficient  to  envenom  the  whole  course  of 
the  struggle  between  England  and  Napoleon. 

Having  now  established  the  responsibility  of  British 
officials  in  this,  the  most  famous  plot  of  the  century,  we 
return  to  describe  the  progress  of  the  conspiracy  and  the 
arts  employed  by  Napoleon  to  defeat  it.  His  tool,  Mehee 
de  la  Touche,  after  entrapping  French  royalists  and  some 
of  our  own  officials  in  London,  proceeded  to  the  Continent 
in  order  to  inveigle  some  of  our  envoys.  He  achieved  a 
brilliant  success.  He  called  at  Munich,  in  order,  as  he 
speciously  alleged,  to  arrange  with  our  ambassador  there 

^  The  expression  is  that  of  George  III.,  who  further  remarked  that  all 
the  ambassadors  despised  Hawkesbury.  (Rose,  ^^  Diaries,^*  vol.  ii.,  p. 
157.)  Windham*s  letter,  dated  Beaconsfield,  Augost  16th,  1808,  in  the 
Puisaye  Papers,  warned  the  French  kmigris  that  they  must  not  count  on 
any  aid  from  Ministers,  who  had  **  at  all  times  shown  such  feebleness  of 
spirit,  that  they  can  scarcely  dare  to  lift  their  eyes  to  such  aims  as  you 
indicate.     (**  Add.  MSS.,"  No.  7976.) 


XIX  THE  ROYALIST  PLOT  419 

the  preparations  for  the  royalist  plot.  The  British  envoy, 
who  bore  the  honoured  name  of  Francis  Drake,  was  a  zeal- 
ous intriguer  closely  in  touch  with  the  SmigrS%:  he  was 
completely  won  over  by  the  arts  of  Mehee :  he  gave  the 
spy  money,  supplied  him  with  a  code  of  false  names,  and 
even  intrusted  him  with  a  recipe  for  sympathetic  ink. 
Thus  furnished,  Mehee  proceeded  to  Paris,  sent  his  briber 
a  few  harmless  bulletins,  took  his  information  to  the  police, 
and,  at  Napoleon*8  dictation^  gave  him  news  that  seriously 
misled  our  Government  and  Nelson.^ 

The  same  trick  was  tried  on  Stuart,  our  ambassador  at 
Vienna,  who  had  a  tempting  offer  from  a  French  agent  to 
furnish  news  from  every  French  despatch  to  or  from  Vienna. 
Stuart  had  closed  with  the  offer,  when  suddenly  the  man 
was  seized  at  the  instance  of  the  French  ambassador,  and  his 
papers  were  searched.^  In  this  case  there  were  none  that 
compromised  Stuart,  and  his  career  was  not  cut  short  in 
the  ignominious  manner  that  befell  Drake,  over  whom  there 
maybe  inscribed  as  epitaph  the  warning  which  Talleyrand 
gave  to  young  aspirants  —  "et  surtout  pas  trop  de  zele." 

Thus,  while  the  royalists  were  conspiring  the  overthrow 
of  Napoleon,  he  through  his  agents  was  countermining 
their  clumsy  approach  to  his  citadel,  and  prepared  to  blow 
them  sky  high  when  their  mines  were  crowded  for  the 
final  rush.  The  royalist  plans  matured  slowly  owing  to 
changes  which  need  not  be  noticed.  Georges  Cadoudal 
quitted  London,  and  landed  at  Biville,  a  smuggler's  haunt 
not  far  from  Dieppe,  on  August  23rd,  1803.  Thence  he 
made  his  way  to  Paris,  and  spent  some  months  in  striving 
to  enlist  trusty  recruits.  It  has  been  stated  that  the  plot 
never  aimed  at  assassination,  but  at  the  overpowering  of 
the  First  Consul's  escort,  and  the  seizure  of  his  person, 
during  one  of  his  journeys.  Then  he  was  to  be  forcibly 
transferred  to  the  northern  coast  on  relays  of  horses,  and 
hurried  over  to  England.*    But,  though  the  plotters  threw 

^  See  in  chapter  xxi.,  p.  488.  Our  envoy,  Spencer  Smitli,  at  Stuttgart, 
was  also  taken  in  by  a  French  spy,  Captain  Rosey,  whose  actions  were 
directed  by  Napoleon.    See  bis  letter  (No.  7669). 

«  "F.  O.,"  Austria,  No.  68  (October  31st,  1808J. 

*  Lavalette,  *'  Mems.,*'  ch.  xziii. ;  **  Oeorges  Cadoudal,*'  by  Georges  de 
Cadoudal  (Paris,  1887). 


420  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

the  veil  of  decency  over  their  enterprise  by  calling  it 
kidnapping,  they  undoubtedly  meant  murder.  Among 
Drake's  papers  there  is  a  hint  that  the  royalist  emissaries 
were  at  first  to  speak  only  of  the  seizure  and  deportation 
of  the  First  Consul. 

Whatever  may  have  been  their  precise  aims,  they  were 
certainly  known  to  Napoleon  and  his  police.  On  liovem- 
ber  1st,  1803,  he  wrote  to  Regnier  : 

**  You  must  not  be  in  a  huny  about  the  arrests :  when  the  author 
[M^h^e]  has  given  in  all  the  information,  we  will  draw  up  a  plan 
with  him,  and  will  see  what  is  to  be  done.  I  wish  him  to  write  to 
Drake,  and,  in  order  to  make  him  trustful,  inform  him  that,  before 
the  great  blow  can  be  dealt,  he  believes  he  [M^h^]  can  promise  to 
have  seized  on  the  table  of  the  First  Consul,  in  his  secret  room,  notes 
written  in  his  own  hand  relating  to  his  great  expedition,  and  every 
other  important  document/' 

Napoleon  revelled  in  the  details  of  his  plan  for  hoisting 
the  engineers  with  their  own  petards.^  But  he  knew  full 
well  that  the  plot,  when  fully  ripe,  would  yield  far  more 
than  the  capture  of  a  few  Chouans.  He  must  wait  until 
Moreau  was  implicated.  The  man  selected  by  the  SmigrS% 
to  sound  Moreau  was  Pichegru,  and  this  choice  was  the 
sole  instance  of  common  sense  displayed  by  them.  It  was 
Pichegru  who  had  marked  out  the  future  fortune  of  Moreau 
in  the  campaign  of  1793,  and  yet  he  had  seemed  to  be  the 
victim  of  that  general's  gross  ingratitude  at  Fructidor. 
Who  then  so  fitted  as  he  to  approach  the  victor  of  Hohen- 
linden  ?  Through  a  priest  named  David  and  General 
Lajolais,  an  interview  was  arranged ;  and  shortly  after 
Pichegru's  arrival  in  France,  these  warriors  furtively 
clasped  hands  in  the  capital  which  had  so  often  resounded 
with  their  praises  (January,  1804).  They  met  three  or 
four  times,  and  cleared  away  some  of  the  misunderstand- 
ings of  the  past.  But  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
Georges,  and  when  Pichegru  mooted  the  overthrow  of 
Bonaparte  and  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons,  he  firmly 
warned  him  :  "  Do  with  Bonaparte  what  you  will,  but  do 
not  ask  me  to  put  a  Bourbon  in  his  place.*' 

1  See  his  letter  of  January  24th,  1804,  to  R^,  instnicting  him  to  tell 
M6h6e  what  falsehoods  are  to  find  a  place  in  M^hte^s  next  bulletin  to 
Drake  1     ^'Keep  on  continually  with  the  affair  of  my  portfolio." 


XIX  THE  ROYALIST  PLOT  481 

From  this  resolve  Moreau  never  receded.  But  his  cal- 
culating reserve  did  not  save  him.  Already  several  sus- 
pects had  been  imprisoned  in  Normandy.  At  Napoleon^s 
suggestion  five  of  them  were  condemned  to  death,  in  the 
hope  of  extorting  a  confession  ;  and  the  last,  a  man  named 
Querelle,  gratified  his  gaolers  by  revealing  (February  14th) 
not  only  the  lodging  of  Georges  in  Paris,  but  the  intention 
of  other  conspirators,  among  whom  was  a  French  prince, 
to  land  at  Biville.  The  plot  was  now  coming  to  a  head, 
and  so  was  the  counter-plot.  On  the  next  day  Moreau  was 
arrested  by  order  of  Napoleon,  who  feigned  the  utmost 
grief  and  surprise  at  seeing  the  victor  of  Hohenlinden 
mixed  up  with  royalist  assassins  in  the  pay  of  £ng- 
land.i 

Elated  by  this  success,  and  hoping  to  catch  the  Comte 
d'Artois  himself,  Napoleon  forthwith  despatched  to  that 
cliff  one  of  his  most  crafty  and  devoted  servants,  Savarjr, 
who  commanded  the  gendarmerie  d'Slite.  Tricked  out  in 
suitable  disguises,  and  informed  by  a  smuggler  as  to  the 
royalist  signals,  Savary  eagerly  awaited  the  royal  quarry, 
and  when  Captain  Wright  s  vessel  hove  in  sight,  he  used 
his  utmost  arts  to  imitate  the  signals  that  invited  a  land- 
ing. But  the  crew  were  not  to  be  lured  to  shore  ;  and 
after  fruitless  endeavours  he  returned  to  Paris  —  in  time 
to  take  part  in  the  murder  of  the  Due  d'Enghien. 

Meanwhile  the  police  were  on  the  tracks  of  Pichegru 
and  Georges.  On  the  last  day  of  February  the  general 
was  seized  in  bed  in  the  house  of  a  treacherous  friend : 
but  not  until  the  gates  of  Paris  had  been  closed,  and 
domiciliary  visits  made,  was  Georges  taken,  and  then  only 
after  a  desperate  affray  (March  9th) .  The  arrest  of  the  two 
Polignacs  and  the  Marquis  de  Riviere  speedily  followed. 

Hitherto  Napoleon  had  completely  outwitted  his  foes. 
He  knew  well  enough  that  he  was  in  no  danger. 

**  I  have  run  no  real  risks,"  he  wrote  to  Melzi,  "  for  the  police  had  its 
eyes  on  all  these  machinations,  and  I  have  the  consolation  of  not  iind- 

iMiot  de  Melito,  vol.  i.,  oh.  xvi. ;  Pasquier,  vol.  i.,  ch.  vii.  See  also 
Desmarest,  *'  Quinze  ans  de  la  haute  police^* :  his  claim  that  the  police 
previously  knew  nothing  of  the  plot  is  refuted  hy  Napoleon^s  letters  (e.g.f 
that  of  November  1st,  1803}  ;  as  also  by  Guilhermy,  *'  Papiets  d*un 
Emigre,''  p.  122. 


422  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  CHikP. 

ing  reason  to  complain  of  a  sins^le  man  among  all  those  I  have  placed 
in  this  huge  administration.    Moreau  stands  alone."  ^ 

But  now,  at  the  moment  of  victory,  when  France  was 
swelling  with  rage  against  royalist  assassins,  English 
gold,  and  Moreau's  treachery,  the  First  Consul  was 
hurried  into  an  enterprise  which  gained  him  an  imperial 
crown  and  flecked  the  purple  with  innocent  blood. 

There  was  living  at  Ettenheim,  in  Baden,  not  far  from 
the  Rhine,  a  young  prince  of  the  House  of  Conde,  the 
Due  d^Enghien.  Since  the  disbanding  of  the  corps  of 
Conde  he  had  been  tranquilly  enjoying  the  society  of 
the  Princess  Charlotte  de  Rohan,  to  whom  he  had  been 
secretly  married.  Her  charms,  the  attractions  of  the 
chase,  the  society  of  a  small  circle  of  French  SmigrSs^ 
and  an  occasional  secret  visit  to  the  theatre  at  Strassburg, 
formed  the  chief  diversions  to  an  otherwise  monotonous 
life,  until  he  was  fired  with  the  hope  of  a  speedy  declara- 
tion of  war  by  Austria  and  Russia  against  Napoleon. 
Report  accused  him  of  having  indiscreetly  ventured  in 
disguise  far  into  France ;  but  he  indignantly  denied  it. 
His  other  letters  also  prove  that  he  was  not  an  accomplice 
of  the  Cadoudal-Pichegru  conspiracy.  But  Napoleon's 
spies  gave  information  which  seemed  to  implicate  him  in 
that>  enterprise.  Chief  among  them  was  Mehee,  who,  at 
the  close  of  February,  hovered  about  Ettenheim  and 
heard  that  the  duke  was  often  absent  for  many  days 
at  a  time. 

Napoleon  received  this  news  on  March  1st,  and  ordered 
the  closest  investigation  to  be  made.  One  of  his  spies 
reported  that  the  young  duke  associated  with  General 
Dumouriez.  In  reality  the  general  was  in  London,  and 
the  spy  had  substituted  the  name  of  a  harmless  old  gen- 
tleman called  Thumery.  When  Napoleon  saw  the  name 
of  Dumouriez  with  that  of  the  young  duke  his  rage 
knew  no  bounds.  ^'  Am  I  a  dog  to  be  beaten  to  death 
in  the  street?  Why  was  I  not  warned  that  they  were 
assembling  at  Ettenheim?  Are  my  murderers  sacred 
beings  ?  They  attack  my  very  person.  I'll  give  them 
war  for  war."    And  he  overwhelmed  with  reproaches 

1  **  Lettres  in^tes  de  Napoleon/'  letter  of  Feb.  20th,  1804. 


XIX  THE  ROYALIST  PLOT  428 

• 

both  Real  and  Talleyrand  for  neglecting  to  warn  him  of 
these  traitors  and  assassins  clustering  on  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine.  The  seizure  of  Georges  Cadoudal  and  the  exami- 
nation of  one  of  his  servants  helped  to  confirm  Napoleon's 
surmise  that  he  was  the  victim  of  a  plot  of  which  the 
duke  and  Dumouriez  were  the  real  contrivers,  while 
Georges  was  their  tool.  Cadoudal's  servant  stated  that 
there  often  came  to  his  master's  house  a  mysterious  man, 
at  whose  entry  not  only  Georges  but  also  the  Polignacs 
and  Riviere  always  arose.  Tms  convinced  Napoleon  that 
the  Due  d'Enghien  was  directing  the  plot,  and  he  deter- 
mined to  have  the  duke  and  Dumouriez  seized.  That  ^^ 
they  were  on  German  soil  was  naught  to  him.  Talley-  ^^^  * 
rand  promised  that  he  could  soon  prevail  on  the  Elector 
to  overlook  this  violation  of  his  territory,  and  the 
was  then  discussed  in  an  inforaalcouncil./Talle:" 

■spoke  of  tEe  outcry  which  such  a  violation  of  neutral  ter- 
ritory  would  arouse,  but  bent  before  the  determination  of 
the  First  Consul;  and  the  regicide  Cambaceres  alone 
offered  a  firm  opposition  to  an  outrage* whiiR  fflCTst  em- 
broil France  with  Germany  and  Russia.  Despite  this 
protest.  Napoleon  issued  his  orders  and  then  repaired  to 
the  pleasing  solitudes  ot  La  Malmaison,  where  he  re- 
mained in  almost  complete  seclusion.  The  execution 
of  the  orders  was  now  left  to  Generals  Ordener  and 
Caulaincourt,  who  arranged  the  raid  inio  l^aaen ;  to 
£uraiD,  who  was  now  Governor  of  Paris ;  and  to  the 
devoted  and  unquestioning  Savary  and  Real. 

The  seizure  of  the  duke  was  craftily  eSecfed.  Troops 
and  gendarmes  were  quietly  mustered  at  Strassburg : 
spies  were  sent  forward  to  survey  the  ground ;  and  as 
the  dawn  of  the  15th  of  March  was  lighting  up  the  east- 
ern sky,  thirty  Frenchmen  encircled  Enghien's  abode. 
His  hot  blood  prompted  him  to  fight,  but  on  the  advice 
of  a  friend  he  quietly  surrendered,  was  haled  away  to 
Strassburg  and  thence  to  the  castle  of  Vincennes  on 
the  southeast  of  Paris.  There  everything  was  ready  for 
his  reception  on  the  evening  of  March  20th.  The  pall 
of  secrecy  was  spread  over  the  preparations.  The 
name  of  rlessis  was  assigned  to  the  victim,  and  Harel, 


424  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chjlf. 

the  governor  of  the  castle,   was   left  ignorant  of  his 
rank.^ 

)oye  all,  he  was  to  be  tried  by  a  court-martial  of 
officers,  a  form  of  judgment  which  was  summary  and 
without  appeal ;  whereas  the  ordinary  courts  of  justice 
must  be  slow  and  open  to  the  public  gaze.  It  was  true 
that  the  Senate  had  just  suspended  trial  by  jury  in  the 
case  of  attempts  against  the  First  Consul's  life — a  device 
adopted  in  view  of  the  Moreau  prosecution.  But  the  cer- 
tainty of  a  conviction  was  not  enough :  Napoleon  deter- 
mined to  strike  terror  into  his  enemies,  such  as  a  swift 
and  secret  blow  always  inspires.  He  had  resolved  on  a 
trial  by  court-martial  when  he  still  believed  Enghien  to 
be  an  accomplice  of  Dumouriez  ;  and  when,  late  on  Satur- 
day, March  17th,  that  mistake  was  explained,  his  purpose 
remained  unshaken  —  unshaken  too  by  the  high  mass  of 
Easter  Sunday,  March  I8th,  which  he  heard  in  state  at 
the  Chapel  of  the  Tuileries.  On  the  return  journey  to 
Malmaison  Josephine  confessed  to  Madame  de  Remusat 
her  fears  that  Bonaparte's  will  was  unalterably  fixed  :  "  I 
have  done  what  I  could,  but  I  fear  his  mind  is  made  up." 
She  and  Joseph  approached  him  once  more  in  the  park 
while  Talleyrand  was  at  his  side.  "  I  fear  that  cripple," 
she  said,  as  they  came  near,  and  Joseph  drew  the  Minister 
aside.  All  was  in  vain.  ^'  Go  away  ;  you  are  a  child  ; 
you  don't  understand  public  duties."  This  was  Jose- 
phine's final  repulse. 

On  March  20th  Napoleon  drew  up  the  form  of  questions 
to  be  put  to  the  prisoner.  He  now  shifted  the  ground 
of  accusation.  Out  of  eleven  questions  only  the  last 
three  referred  to  the  duke's  connection  with  the  Cadoudal 
plot.^  For  in  the  meantime  he  had  found  in  the  duke's 
papers  proofs  of  his  having  offered  his  services  to  the 
British  Government  for  the  present  war,^  his  hopes  of 
participation  in  a  future  Continental  war,  but  nothing  that 
could  implicate  him  in  the  Cadoudal  plot.  The  papers 
were  certainly  disappointing  ;  and  that  is  doubtless  the 
reason   why,  after  examining  them  on  March   19th,  he 

1  SArgr.  t  <  J^Miis. ,  *  *  ch^.    Bnnani^r^^  tn  M^yy^t  and  HareL  March  2(Hh. 
.  «  X^etter  to  R^al,  »»T5rresp.,''*'No.  lQli9. 
»  The  oi^^naTiB  in  "F.  0."  (Aufltria,  No.  6S). 


LOUIS  ANTOINE   HtNKI    DE   BOURBON,    DUC   D'ENGHIEN. 


zix  THE  ROYALIST  PLOT  426 

charged  Real  *^  to  take  secret  cognizance  of  these  papers 
along  with  Desmarest.  One  must  prevent  any  talk  on 
the  more  or  less  ot  ciiarges  contained  in  these  papers." 
The  same  fact  doubtless  led  to  their  abstraction  along 
with  the  doiiier  of  the  proceedings  of  the  court-martial.^ 

The  task  of  summoning  the  oflScers  who  were  to  form 
the  court-martial  was  imposed  on  Murat.  But  when 
this  bluff,  hearty  soldier  received  this  order,  he  exclaimed: 
"  What  1  are  they  trying  to  soil  my  uniform  1  I  will  not 
allow  it  I  Let  him  appoint  them  himself  if  he  wants  to." 
But  a  second  and  more  imperious  mandate  compelled 
him  to  perform  this  hateful  duty.  The  seven  senior 
officers  of  the  garrison  of  Paris  now  summoned  were 
ordered  not  to  separate  until  judgment  was  passed.^  At 
their  head  was  General  Hulin,  who  had  shown  such 
daring  in  the  assault  on  the  Bastille  ;  and  thus  one  of 
the  early  heroes  of  the  Revolution  had  the  evening  of 
his  days  shrouded  over  with  the  horrors  of  a  midnight 
murder.  Finally,  the  First  Consul  charged  Savary,  who 
had  just  returned  to  Paris  from  Biville,  furious  at  being 
baulked  of  his  prey,  to  proceed  to  Vincennes  with  a  band 
of  his  gendarmes  for  the  carrying  out  of  the  sentence. 

The  seven  officers  as  yet  knew  nothing  of  the  nature 
of  their  mission,  or  of  martial  law.  "  We  had  not,"  wrote 
Hulin  long  afterwards,  ^Hhe  least  idea  about  trials;  and 
worst  of  all,  the  reporter  and  clerk  had  scarcely  any  more 
experience."*  The  examination  of  the  prisoner  was  curt 
in  the  extreme.  He  was  asked  his  name,  date  and  place 
of  birth,  whether  he  had  borne  arms  against  France  and 
was  in  the  pay  of  England.  To  the  last  questions  he 
answered  decisively  in  the  affirmative,  adding  that  he 
wished  to  take  part  in  the  new  war  against  France. 

His  replies  were  the  same  as  he  made  in  his  preliminary 
examination,  which  he  closed  with  the  written  and  urgent 

1  Pasqnler,  "Mtooires,"  vol.  i.,  p.  187. 

<  The  Comte  de  Mosbourg^s  notes  in  Count  Murat's  '*  Marat  *'  (Paris, 
1897),  pp.  437^445,  prove  that  Savary  did  not  draw  his  instructions  for 
the  execution  of  the  duke  merely  from  Murat,  but  from  Bonaparte  him- 
self, who  must  therefore  be  held  solely  responsible  for  the  composition 
and  conduct  of  that  court.  Masson^s  attempt  (*^Nap.  et  sa  Famille,*' 
ch.  xiv. )  to  inculpate  Murat  is  very  weak. 

s  Hulin  in  *'  Catastrophe  du  due  d*£nghien,**  p.  118. 


426  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

request  for  a  personal  interview  with  Napoleon.  To  this 
request  the  court  proposed  to  accede ;  but  Savary,  who 
had  posted  himself  behind  Hulin's  chair,  at  once  declared 
this  step  to  be  inopportune.  The  judges  had  only  one 
chance  of  escape  from  their  predicament,  namely,  to  induce 
the  duke  to  invalidate  his  evidence :  this  he  firmly  refused 
to  do,  and  when  Hulin  warned  him  of  the  danger  of  his 
position,  he  replied  that  he  knew  it,  and  wished  to  have 
an  interview  with  the  First  Consul. 

The  court  then  passed  sentence,  and,  ^^in  accordance 
with  article  (blank)  of  the  law  (blank)  to  the  following 
effect  (blank)  condemned  him  to  suffer  death."  Ashamed, 
as  it  would  seem,  of  this  clumsy  condemnation,  Hulin  was 
writing  to  Bonaparte  to  request  for  the  condemned  man 
the  personal  interview  which  he  craved,  when  Savary  took 
the  pen  from  his  hands,  with  the  words  :  "  Your  work  is 
done  :  the  rest  is  my  business."  ^  The  duke  was  forth- 
with led  out  into  the  moat  of  the  castle,  where  a  few 
torches  shed  their  light  on  the  final  scene  of  this  sombre 
tragedy :  he  asked  for  a  priest,  but  this  was  denied  him : 
he  then  bowed  tiis  head  in  prayer,  lifted  those  noble 
features  towards  the  soldiers,  begged  them  not  to  miss 
their  aim,  and  fell,  shot  through  the  heart.  Hard  by  was 
a  grave,  which,  in  accordance  with  orders  received  on  the 
previous  day,  the  governor  had  caused  to  be  made  ready  ; 
into  this  the  body  was  thrown  pell-mell,  and  the  earth 
closed  over  the  remains  of  the  last  scion  of  the  warlike 
House  of  Conde. 

Twelve  years  later  loving  hands  disinterred  the  bones 
and  placed  them  in  the  chapel  of  the  castle.  But  even 
then  the  world  knew  not  all  the  enormity  of  the  crime. 
It  was  reserved  for  clumsy  apologists  like  Savary  to  pro- 
voke replies  and  further  investigations.  The  various 
excuses  which  throw  the  blame  on  Talleyrand,  and  on 
everyone  but  the  chief  actor,  are  suflSciently  disposed  of 
by  the  ex-Emperor's  will.  In  that  document  Napoleon 
brushed  away  the  excuses  which  had  previously  been 
offered  to  the  credulity  or  malice  of  his  courtiers,  and  took 
on  himself  the  responsibility  for  the  execution  : 

^  Dupin  in  **  Catastrophe  du  dao  d*Enghien,*'  pp.  101,  123. 


I, 


XIX  THB  ROYALIST  PLOT  427 

<<  I  caused  the  Due  d'Enj^hien  to  be  arrested  and  judged,  because  it 
was  necessary  for  the  saiety,  the  interest,  and  the  honour  of  the 
French  people  when  the  Comte  d'Artois,  by  his  own  confession,  was 
supporting  sixty  assassins  at  Paris.  In  similar  circumstances  I  would 
act  m  the  same  way  again."  ^ 

The  execution  of  the  Due  d'Enghien  is  one  of  the  most 
important  incidents  of  this  period,  so  crowded  with  mo- 
mentous events.  The  sensation  of  horror  which  it  caused 
can  be  gauged  by  the  mental  agony  of  Madame  de  Remusat 
and  of  others  who  had  hitherto  looked  on  Bonaparte  as  the 
hero  of  the  age  and  the  saviour  of  the  country.  His  mother 
hotly  upbraided  him,  saying  it  was  an  atrocioujs  act,  the 
stain  of  which  could  never  be  wiped  out,  and  that  he  had 
yielded  to  the  advice  of  enemies  eager  to  tarnish  his  fame.^ 
Napoleon  said  nothing,  but  shut  himself  up  in  his  cabinet, 

^  The  only  excuse  which  calls  for  notice  here  is  that  Napoleon  at  the 
last  moment,  when  urged  by  Joseph  to  be  merciful,  gave  way,  and  de- 
spatched orders  late  at  night  to  R^al  to  repair  to  Vincennes.  R^l 
received  some  order,  the  exact  purport  of  which  is  unknown :  it  was  late 
at  night  and  he  postponed  going  till  the  morrow.  On  his  way  he  met 
Savary,  who  came  towards  Paris  bringing  the  news  of  the  duke*s  execution. 
R^^s  first  words,  on  hearing  this  unexpected  news,  were :  **  How  is  that 
possible  ?  I  had  so  many  questions  to  put  to  the  duke :  his  examination 
might  disclose  so  much.  Another  thing  gone  wrong  ;  the  First  Consul  will 
be  furious.'*  These  words  were  afterwiuds  repeated  to  Pasquier  both  by 
Savary  and  by  R^ :  and,  unless  Pasquier  lied,  the  belated  order  sent  to 
"RM  was  not  a  pardon  (and  Napoleon  on  his  last  voyage  said  to  Cockbum 
it  was  not) ,  but  merely  an  order  to  extract  such  information  from  the  duke  as 
would  compromise  other  Frenchmen.  Besides,  if  Napoleon  had  despatched 
an  order  for  the  duke's  pardon,  why  was  not  that  order  produced  as  a 
sign  of  his  innocence  and  R^'s  blundering  ?  Why  did  he  shut  himself 
up  in  his  private  room  on  March  20th,  so  that  even  Josephine  had  difficulty 
in  gaining  entrance  ?  And  if  he  really  desired  to  pardon  the  duke,  how 
came  it  that  when,  at  noon  of  March  21st,  "RM  explained  that  he  arrived 
at  Vincennes  too  late,  the  only  words  that  escaped  Napoleon's  lips  were 
**  C'est  bien  "  ?  (See  Mfeneval,  vol.  i.,  p.  296.)  Why  also  was  his  counte- 
nance the  only  one  that  afterwards  showed  no  remorse  or  grief  ?  Caulain- 
court,  when  he  heard  the  results  of  his  raid  into  Baden,  fainted  with  horror, 
and  when  brought  to  by  Bonaparte,  overwhelmed  him  with  reproaches. 
Why  also  had  the  grave  been  dug  beforehand  ?  Why,  finally,  were  Savary 
and  R^  not  disgraced  ?  No  satisfactory  answer  to  these  questions  has 
ever  been  given.  The  *  *  Catastrophe  du  due  d'  Enghien ' '  and  Count  Boulay 
de  laMeurthe*s  ^^Les  demi^res  Annies  du  due  d'Enghien"  and  Napo- 
leon's **Correspondance"  give  all  the  documents  needed  for  forming  a 
judgment  on  this  case.  The  evidence  is  examined  by  Mr.  Fay  in  **  The 
American  Hist.  Rev.,"  July  and  Oct.,  1808.  For  the  rewards  to  the  mur- 
derers see  Masson,  **  Nap.  et  sa  Famille,"  diap.  xiii. 

'Ducasse,  ^^Les  Rois  Fr^res  de  Nap.,"  p.  0. 


428  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap,  xix 

revolving  these  terrible  words,  which  doubtless  bore  fruit 
in  the  bitter  reproaches  later  to  be  heaped  upon  TaUeyrand 
for  his  share  in  the  tragedy.  Many  royalists  who  had  be- 
gun to  rally  to  his  side  now  showed  their  indignation  at 
the  deed.  Chateaubriand,  who  was  about  to  proceed  as 
the  envoy  of  France  to  the  Republic  of  Valais,  at  once 
offered  his  resignation  and  assumed  an  attitude  of  covert 
defiance.  And  that  was  the  conduct  of  all  royalists  who 
were  not  dazzled  by  the  glamour  of  success  or  cajoled  by 
Napoleon's  favours.  Many  of  his  friends  ventured  to  show 
their  horror  of  this  Corsican  vendetta ;  and  a  mot  which 
was  plausibly,  but  it  seems  wrongly,  attributed  to  Fouche, 
well  sums  up  the  general  opinion  of  that  callous  society: 
"  It  was  worse  than  a  crime  —  it  was  a  blunder." 

Scarcely  had  Paris  recovered  from  this  sensation  when, 
on  April  6th,  Pichegru  was  found  strangled  in  prison ;  and 
men  silently  but  almost  unanimously  hailed  it  as  the  work 
of  Napoleon's  Mamelukes.  This  judgment,  however  natu- 
ral after  the  Enghien  affair,  seems  to  be  incorrect.  It  is 
true  the  corpse  bore  marks  which  scarcely  tallied  with 
suicide :  but  Georges  Cadoudal,  whose  cell  was  hard  by, 
heard  no  sound  of  a  scuffle ;  and  it  is  unlikely  that  so 
strong  a  man  as  Pichegru  would  easily  have  succumbed  to 
assailants.  It  is  therefore  more  probable  that  the  conqueror 
of  Holland,  shattered  by  his  misfortunes  and  too  proud  to 
undergo  a  public  trial,  cut  short  a  life  which  already  was 
doomed.  Never  have  plotters  failed  more  ignominiously 
and  played  more  completely  into  the  hands'  of  their  enemy. 
A  mot  of  the  Boulevards  wittily  sums  up  the  results  of 
their  puny  efforts :  "  They  came  to  France  to  give  her  a 
king,  and  they  gave  her  an  Emperor." 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  DAWN  OF  THE  EMPIRE 

Fob  some  time  the  question  of  a  Napoleonic  dynasty  had 
been  freely  discussed ;  and  the  First  Consul  himself  had 
latterly  confessed  his  intentions  to  Joseph  in  words  that 
reveal  his  superhuman  confidence  and  his  caution:  ^^I 
always  intended  to  end  the  Revolution  by  the  establish- 
ment of  heredity :  but  I  thought  that  such  a  step  could  not 
be  taken  before  the  lapse  of  five  or  six  years."  Events, 
however,  bore  him  along  on  a  favouring  tide.  Hatred  of 
England,  fear  of  Jacobin  excesses,  indignation  at  the  royal- 
ist schemes  against  his  life,  and  finally  even  the  execution 
of  Enghien,  helped  on  the  establishment  of  the  Empire. 
Though  moderate  men  of  all  parties  condemned  the  mur- 
der, the  remnants  of  the  Jacobin  party  hailed  it  with  joy. 
Up  to  this  time  they  had  a  lingering  fear  that  the  First 
Consul  was  about  to  play  the  part  of  Monk.  The  pomp 
of  the  Tuileries  and  the  hated  Concordat  seemed  to  their 
crooked  minds  but  the  prelude  to  a  recall  of  the  Bourbons, 
whereupon  priestcraft,  tithes,  and  feudalism  would  be  the 
order  of  the  day.  Now  at  last  the  tragedy  of  Vincennes 
threw  a  lurid  light  into  the  recesses  of  Napoleon's  ambi- 
tion; and  they  exclaimed,  "He  is  one  of  us."  It  must 
thenceforth  be  war  to  the  knife  between  the  Bourbons  and 
Bonaparte ;  and  his  rule  would  therefore  be  the  best  guar- 
antee for  the  perpetual  ownership  of  the  lands  confiscated 
during  the  Revolution.^ 

To  a  materialized  society  that  great  event  had  come  to 
be  little  more  than  a  big  land  investment  syndicate,  of 
which  Bonaparte  was  now  to  be  the  sole  and  perpetual 
director.  This  is  the  inner  meaning  of  the  references  to 
the  Social  Contract  which  figure  so  oddly  among  the  peti- 
tions for  hereditary  rule.     The  Jacobins,  except  a  few 

^Miot  de  Melito,  vol.  iL,  ch.  L;  PaBquier,  voL  L,  ch.  iz. 

429 


480  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ctur. 

conscientious  stalwarts,  were  especially  alert  in  the  feat  of 
making  extremes  meet.  Fouche,  who  now  wriggled  back 
into  favour  and  ofiBce,  appealed  to  the  Senate,  only  seven 
days  after  the  execution,  to  establish  hereditary  power  as 
the  only  means  of  ending  the  plots  against  Napoleon's  life ; 
for,  as  the  opportunist  Jacobins  argued,  if  the  hereditary 
system  were  adopted,  conspiracies  to  murder  would  be 
meaningless,  whe^  even  /they  struck  down  one  man, 
they  must  fail  to  shatter  the  system  that  guaranteed  the 
Revolution. 

The  cue  having  been  thus  dextrously  given,  appeals  and 
petitions  for  hereditary  rule  began  to  pour  in  from  all 
parts  of  France.  The  grand  work  of  the  reorganization  of 
France  certainly  furnished  a  solid  claim  on  the  nation's 
gratitude.  The  recent  promulgation  of  the  Civil  Code 
and  the  revival  of  material  prosperity  redounded  to  Napo- 
leon's glory ;  and  with  equal  truth  and  wit  he  could  claim 
the  diadem  as  a  fit  reward /or  having  revived  many  inter e^U 
while  none  had  been  displaced.  Such  a  remark  and  such 
an  exploit  proclaim  the  born  ruler  of  men.  But  the 
Senate  overstepped  all  bounds  of  decency  when  it  thus 
addressed  him :  "  You  are  founding  a  new  era  :  but  you 
ought  to  make  it  last  for  ever :  splendour  is  nothing  with- 
out duration. "  The  Greeks  who  fawned  on  Persian  satraps 
did  not  more  unman  themselves  than  these  pensioned  syco- 
phants, who  had  lived  through  the  days  of  1789  but  knew 
them  not.  This  fulsome  adulation  would  be  unworthy  of 
notice  did  it  not  convey  the  most  signal  proof  of  the  dan- 
ger which  republics  incur  when  men  lose  si^ht  of  the 
higher  aims  of  life  and  wallow  among  its  sordid,  interests.^ 

After  the  severe  drilling  of  the  last  four  years,  the 
Chambers  voted  nearly  unanimously  in  favour  of  a  Napo- 
leonic dynasty.  The  Corps  LSgUlatif  was  not  in  session, 
and  it  was  not  convoked.  The  Senate,  after  hearing 
Fouch^'s  unmistakable  hints,  named  a  commission  of  its 


1 1  cannot  agree  with  M.  Lanlrey,  vol.  ii.,  ch.  xi.,  that  the  Empire  was 
not  desired  by  the  nation.  It  seems  to  me  that  this  writer  here  attributes 
to  the  apathetic  masses  his  own  unrivalled  acuteness  of  vision  and  enthu- 
siasm for  democracy.  Lafayette  well  sums  up  the  situation  in  the  remark 
that  he  was  more  shocked  at  the  submission  of  all  than  at  the  usurpation 
of  one  man  (**  Mems.,*'  vol.  v.,  p.  239). 


XX  THE  DAWN  OF  THE  EMPIRE  431 

members  to  report  on  hereditary  rule,  and  then  waited  on 
events.  These  were  decided  mainly  in  private  meetings 
of  the  Council  of  State,  where  the  proposal  met  with  some 
opposition  from  Cambaceres,  Merlin,  and  Thibaudeau. 
But  of  what  avail  are  private  remonstrances  when  in  open 
session  opponents  are  dumb  and  supporters  vie  in  adula- 
tion ?  In  the  Tribunate,  on  April  23rd,  an  obscure  jnem- 
ber  named  Curee  proposed  the  adoption  of  the  hereditary 
principle.  One  man  alone  dared  openly  to  combat  the 
proposal,  the  great  Carnot ;  and  the  opposition  of  Curee 
to  Carnot  might  have  recalled  to  the  minds  of  those  abject 
champions  of  popular  liberty  the  verse  that  glitters  amidst 
the  literary  rubbish  of  the  Roman  Empire : 

**  Victrix  causa  dels  placuit,  sed  victa  CatonL" 

The  Tribunate  named  a  commission  to  report ;  it  was 
favourable  to  the  Bonapartes.  The  Senate  voted  in  the 
same  sense,  three  Senators  alone,  among  them  Gregoire, 
Bishop  of  Blois,  voting  against  it.  Sieves  and  Lanjuinais 
were  absent ;  but  the  well-salaried  lord  of  the  manor  of 
Crosne  must  have  read  with  amujsed  contempt  the  resolu- 
tion of  this  body,  which  he  had  designed  to  be  the  ffuardian 
of  the  repvhlican  constitution : 

**  The  French  have  conquered  liberty :  they  wish  to  preserve  their 
conquest:  they  wish  for  reiiose  after  victory.  They  will  owe  this 
glorious  repose  to  the  hereditarv  rule  of  a  single  man,  who,  raised 
above  all,  is  to  defend  public  liberty,  maintain  equality,  and  lower 
his  fasces  before  the  sovereignty  of  the  people  that  proclaims  him." 

In  this  way  did  France  reduce  to  practice  the  dogma  of 
Bousseau  with  regard  to  the  occasional  and  temporary 
need  of  a  dictator.^ 

When  the  commonalty  are  so  obsequious,  any  title  can 
be  taken  by  the  one  necessary  man.  Napoleon  at  first 
affected  to  doubt  whether  the  title  of  Stadholder  would 
not  be  more  seemly  than  that  of  Emperor  ;  and  in  one  of 
the  many  conferences  held  on  this  topic,  Miot  de  Melito 
advocated  the  retention  of  the  term  Consul  for  its  grand 
republican  simplicity.  But  it  was  soon  seen  that  the 
term  Emperor  was  the  only  one  which  satisfied  Napoleon's 

^  See  Anlard,  *'  R^v.  Frangaise,**  p.  772,  for  the  opposition. 


432  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

ambition  and  French  love  of  splendour.  Accordingly  a 
senatus  constUtum  of  May  ISth,  1804,  formally  decreed  to 
him  the  title  of  Emperor  of  the  French.  As  for  his  former 
colleagues,  Cambaceres  and  Lebrun,  they  were  stultified 
with  the  titles  of  Arch-chancellor  and  Arch-treasurer  of 
the  Empire  :  his  brother  Joseph  received  the  title  of  Grand 
Elector,  borrowed  from  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  and  oddl}' 
applied  to  an  hereditary  empire  where  the  chief  had  been 
appointed :  Louis  was  dubbed  Constable ;  two  other  grand 
dignities,  those  of  Arch-chancellor  of  State  and  Hi^h 
Admiral,  were  not  as  yet  filled,  but  were  reserved  for 
Napoleon's  relatives  by  marriage,  Eugene  Beauharnais  and 
Murat.  These  six  grand  dignitaries  of  the  new  Empire 
were  to  be  irresponsible  and  irremovable,  and,  along  with  the 
Emperor,  they  formed  the  Grand  Council  of  the  Empire. 

On  lesser  individuals  the  rays  of  the  imperial  diadem 
cast  a  fainter  glow.  Napoleon's  uncle.  Cardinal  Fesch, 
became  Grand  Almoner ;  Berthier,  Grand  Master  of  the 
Hounds ;  Talleyrand,  Grand  Chamberlain ;  Duroc,  Grand 
Marshal  of  the  Palace ;  and  Caulaincourt,  Master  of  the 
Horse,  the  acceptance  of  which  title  seemed  to  the  world 
to  convict  him  of  full  complicity  in  the  schemes  for  the 
murder  of  the  Due  d'Enghien.  For  the  rest,  the  Em- 
peror's mother  was  to  be  styled  Madame  Mire;  his  sisters 
became  Imperial  Highnesses,  with  their  several  establish- 
ments of  ladies-in-waiting ;  and  Paris  fluttered  with  excite- 
ment at  each  successive  step  upwards  of  expectant  nobles, 
regicides,  generals,  and  stockjobbers  towards  the  central 
galaxy  of  the  Corsican  family,  which,  ten  years  before,  had 
subsisted  on  the  alms  of  the  Republic  one  and  indivisible. 

It  remained  to  gain  over  the  army.  The  means  used 
were  profuse,  in  proportion  as  the  task  was  arduous.  The 
following  generals  were  distin^ished  as  Marshals  of  the 
Empire  (May  19th)  :  Berthier,  Murat,  Massena,  Augereau, 
Lannes,  Jourdan,  Ney,  Soult,  Brune,  Davoust,  Bessidres, 
Moncey,  Mortier,  and  Bernadotte ;  two  marshal's  batons 
were  held  in  reserve  as  a  reward  for  future  service,  and 
four  aged  generals  Lefebvre,  Serrurier,  Perignon,  and 
Kellerman  (the  hero  of  Valmy),  received  the  title  of 
honorary  marshals.  In  one  of  his  conversations  with 
Roederer,  the  Emperor  frankly  avowed  his  reasons  for 


XX  THE  DAWN  OF  THE  EMPIBE  483 

showering  these  honours  on  his  military  chiefs;  it  was 
in  order  to  assure  the  imperial  dignity  to  himself;  for 
how  could  they  object  to  this,  when  they  themselves 
received  honours  so  lofty  ?^  The  confession  affords  a 
curious  instance  of  Napoleon's  unbounded  trust  in  the 
most  elementary,  not  to  say  the  meanest,  motives  of 
human  conduct.  Suitable  rewards  were  bestowed  on 
ofQcers  of  the  second  rank.  But  it  was  at  once  remarked 
that  determined  and  outspoken  republicans  like  Suchet, 
Gouvion  St.  Cyr,  and  Macdonald,  whose  talents  and  ex- 
ploits far  outstripped  those  of  many  of  the  marshals,  were 
excluded  from  their  ranks.  St.  Cyr  was  at  Taranto,  and 
Macdonald,  after  an  enforced  diplomatic  mission  to  Copen- 
hagen, was  received  on  his  recall  with  much  coolness.^ 
O&er  generals  who  had  given  umbrage  at  the  Tuileries 
were  more  effectively  broken  in  by  a  term  of  diplomatic 
banishment.  Lannes  at  Lisbon  and  Brune  at  Constanti- 
nople learnt  a  little  diplomacy  and  some  complaisance  to 
the  head  of  the  State,  and  were  taken  back  to  Napoleon's 
favour.  Bernadotte,  though  ever  suspected  of  Jacobinism 
and  feared  for  the  forcefm  ambition  that  sprang  from  the 
blending  of  Gascon  and  Moorish  blood  in  his  veins,  was 
now  also  treated  with  the  consideration  due  to  one  who 
had  married  Joseph  Bonaparte's  sister-in-law:  he  received 
at  Napoleon's  hands  the  house  in  Paris  which  had  formerly 
belonged  to  Moreau :  the  exile's  estate  of  Grosbois,  near 
Paris,  went  to  reward  the  ever  faithful  Berthier.  Auge- 
reau,  half  cured  of  his  Jacobinism  by  the  disfavour  of  the 
Directory,  was  now  drilling  a  small  French  force  and  Irish 
volunteers  at  Brest.  But  the  Grand  Army,  which  com- 
prised the  pick  of  the  French  forces,  was  intrusted  to  the 
command  of  men  on  whom  Napoleon  could  absolutely 
rely,  Davoust,  Soult,  and  Ney ;  and,  in  that  splendid  force, 
hatred  of  England  and  pride  in  Napoleon's  prowess  now 
overwhelmed  all  political  considerations. 


1  Roederer,  "CEuvres,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  618. 

«  Macdonald,  **  Souvenirs,"  ch.  xii. ;  S^gur,  "Mems.,"  ch.  vU.  When 
Thi^bault  congratulated  Mass^na  on  his  new  title,  the  veteran  scoffingly 
replied :  **  Oh,  there  are  fourteen  of  us."  (Thi^bault,  •*  Mems.,"  ch.  vii., 
Eng.  edit.)  See  too  Marmont  (^'Merns.,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  227)  pn  his  own 
exciuBion  and  the  inclusion  of  Bessi^res. 

2t 


434  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chjlp. 

These  arrangements  attest  the  marvellous  foresight  and 
care  which  Napoleon  brought  to  bear  on  all  affairs :  even  if 
the  discontented  generals  and  troops  had  protested  against 
the  adoption  of  the  Empire  and  the  prosecution  of  Moreau, 
they  must  have  been  easily  overpowered.  In  some  places, 
as  at  Metz,  the  troops  and  populace  fretted  against  the 
Empire  and  its  pretentious  pomp ;  but  the  action  of  the 
commanders  soon  restored  order.  And  thus  it  came  to 
pass  that  even  the  soldiery  that  still  cherished  the  Republic 
raised  not  a  musket  while  the  Empire  was  founded  and 
Moreau  was  accused  of  high  treason. 

The  record  of  the  French  revolutionary  generals  is  in 
the  main  a  gloomy  one.  If  in  1795  it  had  been  prophesied 
that  all  those  generals  who  bore  the  tricolour  to  victory 
would  vanish  or  bow  their  heads  before  a  Corsican,  the 
prophet  would  speedily  have  closed  his  croakings  for  ever. 
Yet  the  reality  was  even  worse.  Marceau  and  Hoche  died 
in  the  Rhineland :  Kleber  and  Desaix  fell  on  the  same  day, 
by  assassination  and  in  battle :  Richepanse,  Leclerc,  and 
many  other  brave  officers  rotted  away  in  San  Domingo : 
Pichegru  died  a  violent  death  in  prison  :  Carnot  was  re- 
tiring into  voluntary  exile :  Massena  and  Macdonald  were 
vegetating  in  inglorious  ease  :  others  were  fast  descending 
to  the  rank  of  flunkeys  ;  and  Moreau  was  on  his  trial  for 
high  treason. 

Even  the  populace,  dazzled  with  glitter  and  drunk  with 
sensations,  suffered  some  qualms  at  seeing  the  victor  of 
Hohenlinden  placed  in  the  dock ;  and  the  grief  of  the 
scanty  survivors  of  the  Army  of  the  Rhine  portended 
trouble  if  the  forms  of  justice  were  too  much  strained. 
Trial  by  jury  had  been  recently  dispensed  with  in  cases 
that  concerned  the  life  of  Napoleon.  Consequently  the 
prisoner,  along  with  Georges  and  his  confederates,  could 
be  safely  arraigned  before  judges  in  open  court ;  and  in 
that  respect  the  trial  contrasted  with  the  midnight  court- 
martial  of  Vincennes.  Yet  in  no  State  trial  have  judges 
been  subjected  to  more  official  pressure  for  the  purpose  of 
assuring  a  conviction.^   The  cross-examination  of  numerous 

1  Chaptal,  **  Souyenlrs,"  p.  262.  For  Moreau*s  popularity  see  Made> 
lin'a  **Fouoh4,"  vol.  1.,  p.  422. 


XX  THE  DAWN  OF  THE  EMPIRE  486 

witnesses  proved  that  Moreau  had  persistently  refused  his 
help  to  the  plot ;  and  the  utmost  that  could  be  urged 
against  him  was  that  he  desired  Napoleon's  overthrow, 
had  three  interviews  with  Pichegru,  and  did  not  reveal 
the  plot  to  the  authorities.  That  is  to  say,  he  was  guilty 
of  passively  conniving  at  the  success  of  a  plot  wmch  a 
"  good  citizen  "  ought  to  have  denounced. 

For  these  reasons  the  judges  sentenced  him  to  two 
years'  imprisonment.  This  judgment  excessively  annoyed 
Napoleon,  who  desired  to  use  his  imperial  prerogative  of 
pardon  on  Moreau's  life,  not  on  a  mere  term  of  imprison- 
ment ;  and  with  a  show  of  clemency  that  veiled  a  hidden 
irritation,  he  now  released  him  provided  that  he  retired  to 
the  United  States.^  To  that  land  of  free  men  the  victor 
of  Hohenlinden  retired  with  a  dignity  which  almost  threw 
a  veil  over  his  past  incapacity  and  folly  ;  and,  for  the 
present  at  least,  men  could  say  that  the  end  of  his  politi- 
cal career  was  nobler  than  Pompey's,  while  Napoleon's 
conduct  towards  his  rival  lacked  the  clemency  which 
graced  the  triumph  of  Caesar. 

As  for  the  actual  conspirators,  twenty  of  them  were 
sentenced  to  death  on  June  10th,  among  them  being  the 
elder  of  the  two  Polignacs,  the  Marquis  de  Riviere,  and 
Georges  Cadoudal.  Urgent  efiForts  were  made  on  behalf 
of  the  nobles  by  Josephine  and  *'  Madame  Mere  " ;  and 
Napoleon  grudgingly  commuted  their  sentence  to  impris- 
onment. But  the  plebeian,  Georges  Cadoudal,  suffered 
death  for  the  cause  that  had  enlisted  all  the  fierce  ener- 
gies of  his  youth  and  manhood.  With  him  perished  the 
bravest  of  Bretons  and  the  last  man  of  action  of  the 
royalists.  Thenceforth  Napoleon  was  not  troubled  by 
Bourbon  plotters  ;  and  doubtless  the  skill  with  which  his 
agents  had  nursed  this  silly  plot  and  sought  to  entangle 
all  waverers  did  far  more  than  the  strokes  of  the  guil- 
lotine to  procure  his  future  immunity.  Men  trembled 
before  a  union  of  immeasurable  power  with  unfathom- 

^  At  the  next  public  audience  Napoleon  upbraided  one  of  the  judges, 
Lecourbe,  who  had  maintained  that  Moreau  was  innocent,  and  thereaiter 
deprived  him  of  his  judgeship.  He  also  disgraced  his  brother,  General 
Lecourbe,  and  forbade  his  coming  within  forty  leagues  of  Paris.  (**  L^t- 
tres  in^tes  de  Napolton,''  August  22nd  and  20th,  1806.) 


486  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLBON  I  chap. 

able  craft   such  as  recalled  the  days  of  the  Emperor 
Tiberius. 

Indeed,  Napoleon  might  now  almost  say  that  his  chief 
foes  were  the  members  of  his  own  household.  The  ques- 
tion of  hereditary  succession  had  already  reawakened  and 
intensified  all  the  fierce  passions  of  the  Emperor's  rela- 
tives. Josephine  saw  in  it  the  fatal  eclipse  of  a  divorce 
sweeping  towards  the  dazzling  field  of  her  new  life,  and 
Napoleon  is  known  to  have  thrice  almost  decided  on  this 
step.  She  no  longer  had  any  hopes  of  bearing  a  child ; 
and  she  is  reported  by  the  compiler  of  the  Fouche  ^^  Me- 
moirs" to  have  clutched  at  that  absurd  device,  a  supposi- 
titious child,  which  Fouche  had  taken  care  to  ridicule  in 
advance.  Whatever  be  the  truth  of  this  rumour,  she  cer- 
tainly used  all  her  powers  over  Napoleon  and  over  her 
daughter  Hortense,  the  spouse  of  Louis  Bonaparte,  to  have 
their  son  recognized  as  first  in  the  line  of  direct  succession. 
But  this  proposal,  which  shelved  both  Joseph  and  Louis,  was 
not  only  hotly  resented  by  the  eldest  broiJier,  who  claimed 
to  be  successor  designate,  it  also  aroused  the  flames  of 
jealousy  in  Louis  himself.  It  was  notorious  that  he  sus- 
pected Napoleon  of  an  incestuous  passion  for  Hortense,  of 
which  his  fondness  for  the  little  Charles  Napoleon  was 
maliciously  urged  as  proof  ;  and  the  proposal,  when  made 
with  trembling  eagerness  by  Josephine,  was  hurled  back 
by  Louis  with  brutal  violence.  To  the  clamour  of  Louis 
and  Joseph  the  Emperor  and  Josephine  seemed  reluctantly 
to  yield. 

New  arrangements  were  accordingly  proposed.  Lucien 
and  Jerome  having,  for  the  present  at  least,  put  them- 
selves out  of  court  by  their  unsatisfactory  marriages. 
Napoleon  appeared  to  accept  a  reconciliation  with  Joseph 
and  Louis,  and  to  place  them  in  the  order  of  succession, 
as  the  Senate  recommended.  But  he  still  reserved  the 
right  of  adopting  the  son  of  Louis  and  of  thus  favouring 
his  chances  of  priority.  Indeed,  it  must  be  admitted  that 
the  Emperor  at  this  difficult  crisis  showed  conjugal  tact 
and  affection,  for  which  he  has  received  scant  justice  at 
the  hands  of  Josephine's  champions.  "  How  could  I  di- 
vorce this  good  wife,"  he  said  to  Roederer,  "  because  I  am 
becoming  great? "  But  fate  seemed  to  decree  the  divorce, 


GENERAL  MORE.\U, 
After  a  [tainting  by  Gi'card  from  "  The  Revolutionary  Plutarch,"  1S05. 


XX  THE  DAWN  OF  THE  BICPIBE  487 

which,  despite  the  reasonings  of  his  brothers,  he  resolutely 
thrust  aside ;  for  the  little  boy  on  whose  life  the  Empress 
built  so  many  fond  hopes  was  to  be  cut  off  by  an  early 
death  in  the  year  1807. 

Then  there  were  frequent  disputes  between  Napoleon 
and  Joseph.  Both  of  them  had  the  Corsican's  instinct  in 
favour  of  primogeniture;  and  hitherto  Napoleon  had  in 
many  ways  deferred  to  his  elder  brother.  Now,  however, 
he  snowed  clearly  that  he  would  brook  not  the  slightest 
interference  in  affairs  of  State.  And  truly,  if  we  except 
Joseph's  diplomatic  services,  he  showed  no  commanding 
gifts  such  as  could  raise  him  aloft  along  with  the  bewilder- 
ing rush  of  Napoleon's  fortunes.  The  one  was  an  irre- 
pressible genius,  the  other  was  a  man  of  culture  and  talent, 
whose  chief  bent  was  towards  literature,  amours,  and  the 
art  of  dolce  far  niente^  except  when  his  pride  was  touched  : 
then  he  was  capable  of  bursts  of  passion  which  seemed  to 
impose  even  on  his  masterful  second  brother.  Lucien, 
Louis,  and  even  the  youthful  Jerome,  had  the  same  in- 
tractable pride  which  rose  defiant  even  against  Napoleon. 
He  was  determined  that  his  brothers  should  now  take  a 
subordinate  rank,  while  they  regarded  the  dynasty  as 
largely  due  to  their  exertions  at  or  after  Brumaire,  and 
claimed  a  proportionate  reward.  Napoleon,  however,  saw 
that  a  dynasty  could  not  thus  be  founded.  As  he  frankly 
said  to  Roederer,  a  dynasty  could  only  take  firm  root  in 
France  among  heirs  brought  up  in  a  palace  :  ^^  I  have 
never  looked  on  my  brothers  as  the  natursd  heirs  to  power  : 
I  only  consider  them  as  men  fit  to  ward  off  the  evils  of  a 
minority." 

Joseph  deeply  resented  this  conduct.  He  was  a  Prince 
of  the  Empire,  and  a  Grand  Elector ;  but  he  speedily 
found  out  that  this  meant  nothing  more  than  occasionally 
presiding  at  the  Senate,  and  accordingly  indulged  in  little 
acts  of  opposition  that  enraged  the  autocrat.  In  his 
desire  to  get  his  brother  away  from  Paris,  the  Emperor 
had  already  recommended  him  to  take  up  the  profession 
of  arms ;  for  he  could  not  include  him  in  the  succession, 
and  place  famous  marshals  under  him  if  he  knew  nothing 
of  an  army.  Joseph  perforce  accepted  the  command  of  a 
regiment,  and  at  thirty-six  years  of  age  began  to  learn 


438  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chai^. 

drill  Dear  Boulogne.^    This  piece  of  burlesque  was  one 
day  to  prove  infinitely  regrettable.     After  the  disaster  of 
Vittoria,  Napoleon  doubtless  wished  that  Joseph  had  for 
ever  had  free  play  in  the  tribune  of  the  Senate  rather  than 
have  dabbled  in  military  affairs.     But  in  the  spring  and 
summer  of  1804  the  Emperor  noted  his  every  word  ;  so 
that,  when  he  ventured  to  suggest  that  Josephine  should 
not  be  crowned  at  the  coming  coronation,   Napoleon's 
wrath  blazed  forth.     Why  should  Joseph  speak  of  his 
rights  and  kin  interests  ?    Who  had  won  power  ?    Who 
deserved  to  enjoy  power  ?    Power  was  his  (Napoleon's) 
mistress,  and  he  dared  Joseph  to  touch  her.     The  Senate 
or  Council  of  State  might  oppose  him  for  ten  years,  with- 
out his  becoming  a  tyrant :  ^^  To  make  me  a  tyrant  one 
thing  alone  is  necessary — a  movement  of  my  family.'** 

The  family,  however,  did  not  move.  As  happened  with 
all  the  brothers  except  Lucien,  Joseph  gave  way  at  the 
critical  moment.  After  threatening  at  the  Council  of 
State  to  resign  his  Grand  Electorate  and  retire  to  Germany 
if  his  wife  were  compelled  to  bear  Josephine's  train  at  the 
coronation,  he  was  informed  by  the  Emperor  that  either  he 
must  conduct  himself  dutifully  as  the  first  subject  of  the 
realm,  or  retire  into  private  life,  or  oppose  —  and  be 
crushed.  The  argument  was  unanswerable,  and  Joseph 
yielded.  To  save  his  own  and  his  wife's  feelings,  the 
wording  of  the  official  programme  was  altered ;  she  was  to 
support  Josephine's  mantle^  not  to  bear  her  trai'm 

In  things  great  and  small  Napoleon  carried  his  point. 
Although  Roederer  pleaded  long  and  earnestly  that  Joseph 
and  Louis  should  come  next  to  the  Emperor  in  the  suc- 
cession, and  inserted  a  clause  in  the  report  which  he  was 
intrusted  to  draw  up,  yet  by  some  skilful  artifice  this 
clause  was  withdrawn  from  the  constitutional  act  on  which 
the  nation  was  invited  to  express  its  opinion  :  ^,nd  France 
assented  to  a  plebiscite  for  the  establishment  of  the  Empire 
in  Napoleon's  family,  which  passed  over  Joseph  and  Liouis, 
as  well  as  Lucien  and  Jerome,  and  vested  the  succession 
in  the  natural  or  adopted  son  of  Napoleon,  and  in  the  heirs 

1  Miot  de  Melito,  vol.  ii.,  ch.  i. 

«  Napoleon  to  Roederer,  **  CEuvres,"  vol.  ill.,  p.  614. 


XX  THE  DAWN  OF  THE  EMPIBB  499 

male  of  Joseph  or  Louis.  Consequently  these  princes  had 
no  place  in  the  succession,  except  by  virtue  of  the  senatus 
cansultum  of  May  18th,  which  gave  them  a  legal  right,  it 
is  true,  but  without  the  added  sanction  of  the  popular 
vote.  More  than  three  and  a  half  million  votes  were  cast 
for  the  new  arrangement,  a  number  which  exceeded  those 
given  for  the  Consulate  and  the  Consulate  for  Life.  As 
usual,  France  accepted  accomplished  facts. 

Matters  legal  and  ceremonial  were  now  approaching 
completion  for  the  coronation.  Negotiations  had  been 
proceeding  between  the  Tuileries  and  the  Vatican,  Napo- 
leon begging  and  indeed  requiring  the  presence  of  the 
Pope  on  that  occasion.  Pius  VII.  was  troubled  at  the 
thought  of  crowning  the  murderer  of  the  Due  d'Enghien ; 
but  he  was  scarcely  his  own  master,  and  the  dextrous 
hints  of  Napoleon  that  religion  would  benefit  if  he  were 
present  at  Notre  Dame  seem  to  have  overcome  his  first 
scruples,  besides  quickening  the  hope  of  recovering  the 
north  of  his  States.  He  was  to  be  disappointed  in  more 
ways  than  one.  Religion  was  to  benefit  only  from  the 
enhanced  prestige  given  to  her  rites  in  the  coming  cere- 
mony,  not  in  the  practical  way  that  the  Pope  desired. 
And  yet  it  was  of  the  first  importance  for  Napoleon  to 
receive  the  holy  oil  and  the  papal  blessing,  for  only  so 
could  he  hope  to  wean  the  affections  of  royalists  from  their 
uncrowned  and  exiled  king.  Doubtless  this  was  one  of  the 
chief  reasons  for  the  restoration  of  religion  by  the  Con- 
cordat,, as  was  shrewdly  seen  at  the  time  by  Lafayette, 
who  laughingly  exclaimed  :  ^^  Confess,  general,  that  your 
chief  wish  is  for  the  little  phial."  ^  The  sally  drew  from 
the  First  Consul  an  obscene  disclaimer  worthy  of  a  drunken 
ostler.     Nevertheless,  the  little  phial  was  now  on  its  way. 

In  order  to  divest  the  meeting  of  Pope  and  Emperor  of 
any  awkward  ceremony.  Napoleon  arranged  that  it  should 
take  place  on  the  road  between  Fontainebleau  and  Ne- 
mours, as  a  chance  incident  in  the  middle  of  a  day's  hunting. 
The  benevolent  old  pontiff  was  reclining  in  his  carriage, 
weary  with  the  long  journey  through  the  cold  of  an  early 
winter,  when  he  was  startled  to  see  the  retinue  of  his  host. 
The  contrast  in  every  way  was  striking.    The  figure  of 

^Lafayette,  **  Mems.,'*  vol.  v.,  p.  182. 


440  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohap. 

the  Emperor  had  now  attained  the  fulness  which  betokens 
abounding  health  and  strength  :  his  face  was  slightly 
flushed  with  the  hunt  and  the  consciousness  that  he  was 
master  of  the  situation,  and  his  form  on  horseback  gained 
a  dignity  from  which  the  shortness  of  his  legs  somewhat 
detracted  when  on  foot.  As  he  rode  up  attired  in  full 
hunting  costume,  he  might  have  seemed  the  embodiment 
of  triumphant  strength.  The  Pope,  on  the  other  hand, 
clad  in  white  garments  and  with  white  silk  shoes,  gave  an 
impression  of  peaceful  benevolence,  had  not  his  intellectual 
features  borne  signs  of  the  protracted  anxieties  of  his 
pontificate.  The  Emperor  threw  himself  from  his  horse 
and  advanced  to  meet  his  guest,  who  on  his  side  alighted, 
rather  unwillingly,  in  the  mud  to  give  and  receive  the  em- 
brace of  welcome.  Meanwhile  Napoleon's  carriage  had 
been  driven  up :  footmen  were  holding  open  both  doors, 
and  an  officer  of  the  Court  politely  handed  Pius  VII.  to 
the  left  door,  while  the  fimperor,  entering  by  the  right, 
took  the  seat  of  honour,  and  thus  settled  once  for  all  the 
vexed  question  of  social  precedence.^ 

During  the  Pope's  sojourn  at  Font%inebleau,  Josephine 
breathed  to  him  her  anxiety  as  to  her  marriage ;  it  hav- 
ing been  only  a  civil  contract,  she  feared  its  dissolution, 
and  saw  in  the  Pope's  intervention  a  chance  of  a*  firmer 
union  with  her  consort.  The  pontiff  'comforted  her  and 
reqmred  from  Napoleon  the  due  solemnization  of  his  mar- 
riage ;  it  was  therefore  secretly  performed  by  Napoleon's 
uncle.  Cardinal  Fesch,  two  days  before  the  coronation.^  - 

It  was  not  enough,  however,  that  the  successor  of  St. 
Peter  should  grace  the  coronation  with  his  presence :  the 
Emperor  sought  to  touch  the  imagination  of  men  by  figur- 
ing as  the  successor  of  Charlemagne.     We  here  approach 

1 "  M6moires  de  Savary,  Due  de  Rovigo."  So  Bourrienne,  who  was 
informed  by  Rapp,  who  was  present  (vol.  ii.,  ch.  xxxiii.).  The  **Moni- 
teur'*  (4th  Frimaire,  Year  XIII.)  asserted  that  the  Pope  took  the  right- 
hand  seat ;  but  I  distrust  its  version. 

3  Mme.  de  R^musat,  vol.  i.,  ch.  z.  As  the  cur6  of  the  parish  was  not 
present,  even  as  witness,  this  new  contract  was  held  by  the  Bonapartes  to 
lack  full  yalidity.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  Fesch  always  maintained 
that  the  marriage  could  only  be  annulled  by  an  act  of  arbitrary  authority. 
For  Napoleon^s  refusal  to  receive  the  communion  on  the  morning  of  the 
coronation,  lest  he,  being  what  he  was,  should  be  guilty  of  sacrilege  and 
hypocrisy,  see  S^gur. 


THE  DAWN  OF  THE  EMPIRE  441 

one  of  the  most  interesting  experiments  of  the  modern 
world,  which,  if  successful,  would  profoundly  have  altered 
the  face  of  Europe  and  the  character  of  its  States.  Even 
in  its  failure  it  attests  Napoleon's  vivid  imagination  and 
boundless  mental  resources.  He  aspired  to  be  more  than 
Emperor  of  the  French :  he  wished  to  make  his  Empire 
a  cosmopolitan  realm,  whose  confines  might  rival  those  of 
the  Holy  Roman  Empire  of  one  thousand  years  before, 
and  embrace  scores  of  peoples  in  a  grand,  well-ordered 
European  poUty. 

Already  his  dominions  included  a  million  of  Germans 
in  the  Rhineland,  Italians  of  Piedmont,  Genoa,  and  Nice, 
besides  Savoyards,  Genevese,  and  Belgians.  How  potent 
would  be  his  influence  on  the  weltering  chaos  of  German 
and  ItaUan  States,  if  these  much-divided  peoples  learnt 
to  look  on  him  as  the  successor  to  the  glories  of  Charle- 
magne !  And  this  honour  he  was  now  to  claim.  However 
delusive  was  the  parallel  bettveen  the  old  semi-tribal  polity 
and  modern  States  where  the  peoples  were  awakening  to 
a  sense  of  their  nationality.  Napoleon  was  now  in  a  posi- 
tion to  clear  the  way  for  his  great  experiment.  He  had 
two  charms  wherewith  to  work,  material  prosperity  and 
his  ^ift  of  touching  the  popular  imagination.  The  former 
of  these  was  already  silently  working  in  his  favour :  the 
latter  was  first  essayed  at  the  coronation. 

Already,  after  a  sojourn  at  Boulogne,  he  had  visited 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  the  city  where  Charlemagne's  relics  are 
entombed,  and  where  Victor  Hugo  in  some  of  his  sublim- 
est  verse  has  pictured  Charles  V.  kneeling  in  prayer  to 
catch  the  spirit  of  the  mediaeval  hero.  Thither  went 
Napoleon,  but  in  no  suppliant  mood ;  for  when  Josephine 
was  offered  the  arm-bones  of  the  great  dead,  she  also 
proudly  replied  that  she  would  not  deprive  the  city  of 
that  precious  relic,  especially  as  she  had  the  support  of 
an  arm  as  great  as  that  of  Charlemagne.^  The  insignia 
and  the  sword  of  that  monarch  were  now  brought  to 
Paris,  and  shed  on  the  ceremony  of  coronation  that  his- 
toric gleam  which  was  needed  to  redeem  it  from  tawdry 
commonplace. 

All  that  money  and  art  could  do  to  invest  the  affair 

^  S^gar,  oh.  zi 


442  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

with  pomp  and  circumstance  had  already  been  done. 
The  advice  of  the  new  Master  of  the  Ceremonies,  M.  de 
Segur,  and  the  hints  of  the  other  nobles  who  had  rallied 
to  the  new  Empire,  had  been  carefully  collated  by  the 
untiring  brain  that  now  watched  over  France.  The  sum 
of  1,123,000  francs  had  been  expended  on  the  coronation 
robes  of  Emperor  and  Empress,  and  far  more  on  crowns 
and  tiaras.  The  result  was  seen  in  costumes  of  match- 
less splendour;  the  Emperor  wore  a  French  coat  of  red 
velvet  embroidered  in  gold,  a  short  cloak  adorned  with 
bees  and  the  collar  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  in  diamonds  ; 
and  at  the  archbishop's  palace  he  assumed  the  long  purple 
robe  of  velvet  profusely  ornamented  with  ermine,  wMle 
his  brow  was  encircled  by  a  wreath  of  laurel,  meed  of 
mighty  conquerors.  In  the  pommel  of  his  sword  flashed 
the  famous  Pitt  diamond,  which,  after  swelling  the  family 
fortune  of  the  British  statesman,  fell  to  the  Regent  of 
France,  and  now  graced  the  coronation  of  her  Dictator. 
The  Empress,  radiant  with  joy  at  her  now  indissoluble 
union,  bore  her  splendours  with  an  easy  grace  that 
charmed  all  beholders  and  gave  her  an  almost  girlish 
air.  She  wore  a  robe  of  white  satin,  trimmed  with  silver 
and  gold  and  besprinkled  with  golden  bees:  her  waist 
and  shoulders  flittered  with  diamonds,  while  on  her 
brows  rested  a  aiadem  of  the  finest  diamonds  and  pearls 
valued  at  more  than  a  million  francs.^  The  curious  might 
remember  that  for  a  necklace  of  less  than  twice  that  vidue 
the  fair  fame  of  Marie  Antoinette  had  been  clouded  over 
and  the  House  of  Bourbon  shaken  to  its  base. 

The  stately  procession  began  with  an  odd  incident: 
Napoleon  and  Josephine,  misled  apparently  by  the  all- 
pervading  splendour  of  the  new  state  carriage,  seated 
themselves  on  the  wrong  side,  that  is,  in  the  seats  des- 
tined for  Joseph  and  Louis:  the  mistake  was  at  once 
made  good,  with  some  merriment;  but  the  superstitious 
saw  in  it  an  omen  of  evil.*  And  now,  amidst  much  en- 
thusiasm and  far  greater  curiosity,  the  procession  wound 

1  F.  Masson's  "Josephine,  Imp^ratrice  et  Reine,"  p.  229.  For  the 
Pitt  diamond,  see  Tale*8  pamphlet  and  Sir  M.  Grant  Duff's  <' Diary,'* 
June  SO,  1S8S. 

>  De  Bausset,  ^^  Court  de  Napol^n/'  ch.  ii 


XX  THE  DAWN  OF  THE  EMPIRE  4id 

aloDg  through  the  Rue  Nicaise  and  the  Rue  St.  Honore  — 
streets  where  Bonaparte  had  won  his  spurs  on  the  day 
of  Vendemiaire  —  over  the  Pont-Neuf ,  and  so  to  the  ven- 
erable cathedral,  where  the  Pope,  chilled  by  long  wait- 
ing, was  ready  to  grace  the  ceremony.  First  he  anointed 
Emperor  and  Empress  with  the  holy  oil;  then,  at  the 
suitable  place  in  the  Mass  he  blessed  their  crowns,  rings, 
and  mantles,  uttering  the  traditional  prayers  for  the  pos- 
session of  the  virtues  and  powers  which  each  might  seem 
to  typify.  But  when  he  was  about  to  crown  the  Emperor, 
he  was  gently  waved  aside,  and  Napoleon  with  his  own 
hands  crowned  himself.  A  thrill  ran  through  the  august 
assembly,  either  of  pity  for  the  feelings  of  the  aged  pon- 
tiff or  of  admiration  at  the  ^^  noble  and  legitimate  pride  " 
of  the  great  captain  who  claimed  as  wholly  his  own  the 
crown  which  his  own  right  arm  had  won.  Then  the 
cortige  slowly  returned  to  the  middle  of  the  nave,  where 
a  lofty  throne  had  been  reared. 

Another  omen  now  startled  those  who  laid  store  by 
trifles.  It  was  noticed  that  the  sovereigns  in  ascending 
the  steps  nearly  fell  backwards  under  the  weight  of  their 
robes  and  trains,  though  in  the  case  of  Josephine  the 
anxious  moment  may  have  been  due  to  the  carelessness, 
whether  accidental  or  studied,  of  her  ''mantle-bearers." 
But  to  those  who  looked  beneath  the  surface  of  things 
was  not  this  an  all-absorbing  portent,  that  all  this  reli- 

?;ious  pomp  should  be  removed  by  scarcely  eleven  years 
rom  the  time  when  this  same  nave  echoed  to  the  shouts 
and  gleamed  with  the  torches  of  the  worshippers  of  the 
newly  enthroned  Goddess  of  Reason? 

Revolutionary  feelings  were  not  wholly  dead,  but  they 
now  vented  themselves  merely  in  gibes.  On  the  night 
before  the  coronation  the  walls  of  Paris  were  adorned  with 
posters  announcing :  The  last  Representation  of  the  French 
Revolution — for  the  Benefit  of  a  poor  Corsican  Family. 
And  after  the  event  there  were  inquiries  why  the  new 
throne  had  no  glands  d'or :  the  answer  suggested,  because 
it  was  sanglant.^  Beyond  these  quips  and  jests  the 
Jacobins  and  royalists  did  not  go.  When  the  phrase 
your  subjects  was  publicly  assigned  to  the   Corps  Ligis- 

1  *' Foreign  Office  Records,"  Intelligences,  No.  426.' 


444  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ghjlf. 

latif  by  its  courtier-like  president,  Fontanes,  there  was  a 
flutter  of  wrath  among  those  who  had  hoped  that  the 
new  Empire  was  to  be  republican.  But  it  quickly  passed 
away ;  and  no  Frenchman,  except  perhaps  Camot,  made 
so  manly  a  protest  as  the  man  of  genius  at  Vienna,  who 
had  composed  the  ^^Sinfonia  Eroica,"  and  with  grand 
republican  simplicity  inscribed  it,  ^*  Beethoven  a  Bona- 
parte." When  the  master  heard  that  his  former  hero 
had  taken  the  imperial  crown,  he  tore  off  the  dedica- 
tion with  a  volley  of  curses  on  the  renegade  and  tyrant ; 
and  in  later  years  he  dedicated  the  immortal  work  to  the 
memory  of  a  great  man. 


CHAPTER  X^I 

THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA 

m 

The  establishment  of  the  Empire,  as  has  been  seen, 
provoked  few  signs  of  opposition  from  the  French  armies, 
once  renowned  for  their  Jacobinism ;  and  by  one  or  two 
instances  of  well-timed  clemency,  the  Emperor  gained  over 
even  staunch  republicans.  Notably  was  this  the  case  with 
a  brave  and  stalwart  colonel,  who,  enraged  at  the  first  vol- 
ley of  cheers  for  the  Empire,  boldly  ordered  "  Silence  in 
the  ranks."  At  once  Napoleon  made  him  general  and 
appointed  him  one  of  his  aides-de-camp ;  and  this  brave 
officer,  Mouton  by  name,  was  later  to  gain  glory  and  the 
title  of  Comte  de  Lobau  in  the  Wagram  campaign.  These 
were  the  results  of  a  timely  act  of  generosity,  such  as 
touches  the  hearts  of  any  soldiery  and  leads  them  to  shed 
their  blood  like  water.  And  so  when  Napoleon,  after  the 
coronation,  distributed  to  the  garrison  of  Paris  their  stand- 
ards, topped  now  by  the  imperial  eagles,  the  great  Champ 
de  Mars  was  a  scene  of  wild  enthusiasm.  The  thunderous 
shouts  that  acclaimed  the  prowess  of  the  new  Prankish 
leader  were  as  warlike  as  those  which  ever  greeted  the 
hoisting  of  a  Carolingian  King  on  the  shields  of  his  lieges. 
Distant  nations  heard  the  threatening  din  and  hastened  to 
muster  their  forces  for  the  fray. 

As  yet  only  England  was  at  war  with  the  Emperor. 
Against  her  Napoleon  now  prepared  to  embattle  the  might 
of  his  vast  Empire.  The  preparations  on  the  northern 
coast  were  now  wellnigh  complete,  and  there  was  only  one 
question  to  be  solved — how  to  "leap  the  ditch."  It  seems 
strange  to  us  now  that  no  attempt  was  made  to  utilize  the 
great  motive  force  of  the  nineteenth  century  —  steam 
power.  And  the  French  memoir-writers,  Marmont, 
Bourrienne,  Pasquier,  and  Bausset,  have  expressed  their 

445 


446  THE  LIFE   OF  NAPOLEON  I  chi^p. 

surprise  that  so  able  a  chief  as  Napoleon  should  have 
neglected  this  potent  ally. 

Their  criticisms  seem  to  be  prompted  by  later  reflec- 
tions rather  than  based  on  an  accurate  statement  of  facts. 
In  truth,  the  nineteenth-century  Hercules  was  still  in  his 
cradle.  Henry  Bell  had  in  1800  experimented  with  a 
steamer  on  the  Clyde  ;  but  it  aroused  the  same  trembling^ 
curiosity  as  Trevithick's  first  locomotive,  or  as  Fulton's 
first  paddle-boat  built  on  the  Seine  in  1803.  In  fact,  this 
boat  of  the  great  American  inventor  was  so  weak  that, 
when  at  anchor,  it  broke  in  half  during  a  gale,  thus  rid- 
ding itself  of  the  weight  of  its  cumbrous  engine.  With 
his  usual  energy,  Fulton  built  a  larger  and  stronger  craft, 
which  not  only  carried  the  machinery,  but,  in  August, 
1803,  astonished  the  members  of  the  French  Institute  by 
moving,  though  with  much  circumspection. 

Fulton,  however,  was  disappointed,  and  if  we  may  judge 
from  the  scanty  records  of  his  life,  he  never  offered  this 
invention  to  Napoleon.^  He  felt  the  need  of  better  ma- 
chinery, and  as  this  could  only  be  procured  in  Ens^land, 
he  gave  the  order  to  a  Birmingham  firm,  which  engined 
his  first  successful  boat,  the  "  Clermont,"  launched  on  the 
Hudson  in  1807.  But  for  the  war,  perhaps,  Fulton  would 
have  continued  to  live  in  Paris  and  made  his  third  attempt 
there.  He  certainly  never  offered  his  imperfect  steamship 
to  the  First  Consul.  Probably  the  fact  that  his  first  boat 
foundered  when  at  anchor  in  the  Seine  would  have  pro- 
cured him  a  rough  reception,  if  he  had  offered  to  equip 
the  whole  of  the  Boulogne  flotilla  with  an  invention  which 
had  sunk  its  first  receptacle  and  propelled  the  second  boat 
at  a  snail's  pace. 

Besides,  he  had  already  met  with  one  repulse  from 
Napoleon.  He  had  offered,  first  to  the  Directory  and 
later  to  the  First  Consul,  a  boat  which  he  claimed  would 
"deliver  France  and  the  world  from  British  oppression." 
This  was  a  sailing  vessel,  which  could  sink  under  water 
and  then  discharge  under  a  hostile  ship  a  "carcass"  of 
gunpowder  or  torpedo  —  another  invention  of  his  fertile 
brain.  The  Directory  at  once  repulsed  him.  Bonaparte 
instructed  Monge,  Laplace,  and  Volney  to  report  on  this 

1  "Life  of  Fulton,"  by  Colden  (1817)  ;  also  one  by  Reigart  (1856). 


zxi  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  447 

submarine  or  ^^  plunging  "  boat,  which  had  a  partial  suc- 
cess. It  succeeded  in  blowing  up  a  small  vessel  in  the 
harbour  at  Brest  in  July,  1801;  but  the  Commission 
seems  to  have  reported  unfavourably  on  its  utility  for 
offensive  purposes.  In  truth,  as  Fulton  had  not  then 
applied  motive  power  to  this  invention,  the  name  "  plung- 
ing boat "  conveyed  an  exaggerated  notion  of  its  functions, 
which  were  more  suited  to  a  life  of  ascetic  contemplation 
than  of  destructive  activity. 

It  appears  that  the  memoir-writers  named  above  have 
confused  the  two  distinct  inventions  of  Fulton  just  re- 
ferred to.  In  the  latter  half  of  1803  he  repaired  to  Eng- 
land, and  later  on  to  the  United  States,  and  after  the  year 
1803  he  seems  to  have  had  neither  the  will  nor  the  oppor- 
tunity to  serve  Napoleon.  In  England  he  offered  his  tor- 
pedo patent  to  the  English  Admiralty,  expressing  his 
hatred  of  the  French  Emperor  as  a  "wild  beast  who  ought 
to  be  hunted  down."  Little  was  done  with  the  torpedo  in 
England,  except  to  blow  up  a  vessel  off  Walmer  as  a  proof 
of  what  it  could  do.  It  is  curious  also  that  when  Bell 
offered  his  paddle-boat  to  the  Admiralty  it  was  refused, 
though  Nelson  is  said  to  have  spoken  in  its  favour.  The 
official  mind  is  everywhere  hostile  to  new  inventions ;  and 
Marmont  suggestively  remarks  that  Bonaparte's  training 
as  an  artillerist,  and  his  experience  of  the  inconvenience 
and  expense  resulting  from  the  adoption  of  changes  in 
that  arm,  had  no  slight  influence  in  setting  him  against 
all  innovations. 

But,  to  resume  our  description  of  the  Boulogne  flotilla 
it  may  be  of  interest  to  give  some  hitherto  unpublished 
details  about  the  flat-bottomed  boats,  and  then  to  pass  in 
brief  review  Napoleon's  plans  for  assuring  a  temporary 
command  of  the  Channel. 

It  is  clear  that  he  at  first  relied  almost  solely  on  the  flo- 
tilla. After  one  of  his  visits  to  Boulogne,  he  wrote  on  No- 
vember 23rd,  1803,  to  Admiral  Gantheaume  that  he  would 
soon  have  on  the  northern  coast  1,300  flat-bottomed  boats 
able  to  carry  100,000  men,  while  the  Dutch  flotilla  would 
transport  60,000.  "  Do  you  think  it  will  take  us  to  the 
English  coast  ?  Eight  hours  of  darkness  which  favour  us 
would  decide  the  fate  of  the  universe."    There  is  no  men- 


448  TH£  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

tion  of  any  convoying  fleet :  the  First  Consul  evidently 
believed  that  the  flotilla  could  beat  off  any  attack  at  sea. 
This  letter  offers  a  signal  proof  of  his  inability,  at  least  at 
that  time,  to  understand  the  risks  of  naval  warfare.  But 
though  his  precise  and  logical  mind  seems  then  to  have 
been  incapable  of  fully  realizing  the  conditions  of  war  on 
the  fickle,  troublous,  and  tide-swept  Channel,  his  admirals 
urgently  warned  him  against  trusting  to  shallow,  flat-bot- 
tomed boats  to  beat  the  enemy  out  at  sea ;  for  though  these 
praams  in  their  coasting  trips  repelled  the  attacks  of  Brit- 
ish cruisers,  which  dared  not  come  into  shallow  waters,  it 
did  not  follow  that  they  would  have  the  same  success  in 
mid-Channel,  far  away  from  coast  defences  and  amidst 
choppy  waves  that  must  render  the  guns  of  keelless  boats 
wellnigh  useless.^ 

The  present  writer,  after  going  through  the  reports  of 
our  admiral  stationed  in  the  Downs,  is  convinced  that  our 
seamen  felt  a  supreme  contempt  for  the  flat-bottomed 
boats  when  at  sea.  After  the  capture  of  one  of  them,  by 
an  English  gun-brig.  Admiral  Montagu  reported,  Novem- 
ber 23rd,  1803  : 

**  It  is  impossible  to  suppose  for  an  instant  that  anything  effective 
can  be  produced  by  such  miserable  tools,  equally  ill-calculated  for  the 

frand  essentials  in  a  maritime  formation,  battle  and  speed  :  that 
oored  as  this  wretched  vessel  is,  she  cannot  hug  the  wind,  but  roust 
drift  bodily  to  leeward,  which  indeed  was  the  cause  of  her  capture ; 
for,  haviue  got  a  little  to  leeward  of  Boulogne  Bay,  it  was  im^ssible 
to  get  back  and  she  was  necessitated  to  steer  large  for  Calais.  On 
the  score  of  battle,  she  has  one  long  18-pounder,  without  breeching  or 
tackle,  traversing  on  a  slide,  which  can  only  be  fired  stem  on.  The 
8-pounder  is  mounted  aft,  but  is  a  fixture  :  so  that  literally,  if  one  of 
our  small  boats  was  to  lay  alongside  there  would  be  nothing  but 
musketry  to  resist,  and  those  [sic]  placed  in  the  hands  of  poor 
wretehes  weakened  by  the  effect  of  seasickness,  exemplified  when  this 
gun-boat  was  captured  —  the  soldiers  having  retreated  to  the  hold,  in- 
capable of  any  energy  or  manly  exertion.  ...  In  short,  Sir,  these 
vessels  in  my  mind  are  completely  contemptible  and  ridiculous,  and 
I  therefore  conclude  that  the  numbers  collected  at  Boulogne  are  to 

1  Jurien  de  la  Gravifere,  "Guerres  Maritimes,'*  vol.  !i.,  p.  75 ;  Cheva- 
lier, "Hist,  de  la  Marine  Fran9ai8e,"  p.  106;  Capt.  Desbri^re's  "Pro- 
jets  de  D^barquement  aux  lies  Britanniques,**  vol.  L  The  accompanying 
engraving  shows  how  fantastic  were  some  of  the  earlier  French  schemes 
of  invasion. 


XXI  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  449 

keep  our  attention  on  the  qui  vive,  and  to  gloss  over  the  real  attack 
meditated  from  other  points." 

The  vessel  which  provoked  the  contempt  of  our  admiral 
was  not  one  of  the  smallest  class :  she  was  58}  ft.  long, 
14^  ft.  wide,  drew  3  ft.  forward  and  4  ft.  aft :  her  sides 
rose  3  ft.  above  the  water,  and  her  capacity  was  35  tons. 
The  secret  intelligence  of  the  Admiralty  for  the  years 
1804  and  1805  also  shows  that  Dutch  sailors  were  equally 
convinced  of  the  unseaworthiness  of  these  craft  :  Acuniral 
Verhuell  plainly  told  the  French  Emperor  that,  however 
flatterers  might  try  to  persuade  him  of  the  feasibility  of 
the  expedition,  "nothing  but  disgrace  could  be  expected." 
The  same  volume  (No.  426)  contains  a  report  of  the  cap- 
ture of  two  of  the  larger  class  of  French  chdUmpes  off 
Cape  La  Hogue.  Among  the  prisoners  was  a  young 
French  royalist  named  La  Bourdonnais  :  when  forced  by 
the  conscription  to  enter  Napoleon's  service,  he  chose  to 
serve  with  the  chaloupea  "  because  of  his  conviction  that 
all  these  flotillas  were  nothing  but  bugbears  and  would 
never  attempt  the  invasion  so  much  talked  of  and  in 
which  so  few  persons  really  believe.''  The  same  was  the 
opinion  of  the  veteran  General  Dumouriez,  who,  now  an 
exile  in  England,  drew  up  for  our  Government  a  long 
report  on  the  proposed  invasion  and  the  means  of  thwart- 
ing it.  The  reports  of  our  spies  also  prove  that  all  ex- 
perienced seamen  on  the  Continent  declared  Napoleon's 
project  to  be  either  a  ruse  or  a  foolhardy  venture. 

The  compiler  of  the  Ney  "  Memoirs,"  who  was  certainly 
well  acquainted  with  the  opinions  of  that  Marshal,  then 
commanding  the  troops  at  Boulogne,  also  believed  that  the 
flotilla  was  only  able  to  serve  as  a  gigantic  ferry.^  The 
French  admirals  were  still  better  aware  of  the  terrible 
risks  to  their  crowded  craft  in  a  fight  out  at  sea.  They 
also  pointed  out  that  the  difference  in  the  size,  draught, 
and  speed  of  the  boats  must  cause  the  dispersion  of  the 
flotilla,  when  its  parts  might  fall  a  prey  to  the  more  sea- 
worthy vessels  of  the  enemy.  Indeed,  the  only  chance  of 
crossing  without  much  loss  seemed  to  be  offered  by  a  pro- 

1  **  M^moires  du  Mar^chal  Ney,^'  bk.  vii.,  ch.  i. ;  80  too  Marmont,  vol.  ii., 
p.  213 ;  Mahan,  ^*  Sea  Power,"  ch.  zy. 

2a 


460  THE  LIFB  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ghjlf. 

tracted  calm,  when  the  British  cruisers  would  be  helpless 
against  a  combined  attack  of  a  cloud  of  rowboats.  The 
risks  would  be  greater  during  a  fog,  when  the  crowd  of 
boats  must  be  liable  to  collision,  stranding  on  shoals,  and 
losing  their  way.  Even  the  departure  of  this  quaint 
armada  presented  grave  difficulties  :  it  was  found  that  the 
whole  force  could  not  clear  the  harbour  in  a  single  tide  ; 
and  a  part  of  the  flotilla  must  therefore  remain  exposed 
to  the  British  fire  before  the  whole  mass  could  ^et  under 
way.  For  all  these  reasons  Bruix,  the  commander  of  the 
flotilla,  and  Decres,  Minister  of  Marine,  dissuaded  Napo- 
leon from  attempting  the  descent  without  the  support  of 
a  powerful  covering  fleet. 

Napoleon's  correspondence  shows  that,  by  the  close  of 
the  year  1803,  he  had  abandoned  that  first  fatuous  scheme 
which  gained  him  from  thiB  wits  of  Paris  the  soubriquet 
of  "  Don  Quixote  de  la  Manche."  ^  On  the  7th  of  Decem- 
ber he  wrote  to  Grantheaume,  maritime  prefect  at  Toulon, 
urging  him  to  press  on  the  completion  of  his  nine  ships  of 
the  line  and  five  frigates,  and  sketching  plans  of  a  naval 
combination  that  promised  to  insure  the  temporary  com- 
mand of  the  Channel.  Of  these  only  two  need  be  cited 
here : 

1.  "  The  Toulon  squadron  will  set  out  on  20th  nivose  (January 
10th,  1804),  will  arrive  before  Cadiz  (or  Lisbon),  will  find  there  the 
Rochefort  squadron,  will  sail  on  without  making  land,  between  Brest 
and  the  Sorlingues,  will  touch  at  Cape  La  Hogue,  and  will  pass  in 
forty-eight  hours  before  Boulogne :  thence  it  will  continue  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Scheldt  (there  procuring  masts,  cordage,  and  all  needful 
things)  — or  perhaps  to  Cherbourg. 

2.  '*  The  Rochefort  squadron  will  set  out  on  20th  nivose,  will  reach 
Toulon  the  20th  plumose :  the  united  squadrons  will  set  sail  in  ventose, 
and  arrive  in  germinal  before  Boulogne — that  is  rather  late.  In  any 
case  the  Egyptian  Expedition  will  cover  the  departure  of  the  Toulon 
squadron :  everything  will  be  managed  so  that  Nelson  ujUI  first  sail  for 
Alexandria.** 

These  schemes  reveal  the  strong  and  also  the  weak 
qualities  of  Napoleon.  He  perceived  the  strength  of  the 
central  position  which  France  enjoyed  on  her  four  coasts  ; 
and  he  now  contrived  all  his  dispositions,  both  naval  and 
political,  so  as  to  tempt  Nelson  away  eastwards  from  Tou- 

^Roederer,  ^^(Euvres,**  vol.  ill.,  p.  494. 


XXI  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  451 

Ion  during  the  concentration  of  the  French  fleet  in  the 
Channel ;  and  for  this  purpose  he  informed  the  military 
officers  at  Toulon  that  their  destination  was  Taranto  and 
the  Morea.  It  was  to  these  points  that  he  wished  to  decoy 
Nelson ;  for  this  end  had  he  sent  his  troops  to  Taranto, 
and  kept  up  French  intrigues  in  Corfu,  the  Morea,  and 
Egypt ;  it  was  for  this  purpose  that  he  charged  that  wily 
spy  Mehee  to  inform  Drake  that  the  Toulon  fleet  was  to 
take  40,000  French  troops  to  the  Morea,  and  that  the 
Brest  fleet,  with  200  highly  trained  Irish  officers,  was 
intended  solely  for  Ireland.  But,  while  displaying  con- 
summate guile,  he  failed  to  allow  for  the  uncertainties  of 
operations  conducted  by  sea.  Ignoring  the  patent  fact 
that  the  Toulon  fleet  was  blockaded  by  Nelson,  and  that 
of  Rochefort  by  CoUingwood,  he  fixed  the  dates  of  their 
departure  and  junction  as  though  he  were  ordering  the 
movements  of  a  corps  d^armSe  in  Provence  ;  and  this  crav- 
ing for  certainty  was  to  mar  his  naval  plans  and  dog  his 
footsteps  with  the  shadow  of  disaster.^ 

The  plan  of  using  the  Toulon  fleet  to  cover  an  inva- 
sion of  England  was  not  entirely  new.  As  far  back  as 
the  days  of  De  Tourville,  a  somewhat  similar  plan  had 
been  devised  :  the  French  Channel  and  Atlantic  fleets 
under  that  admiral  were  closely  to  engage  Russell  off 
the  Isle  of  Wight,  while  the  Toulon  squadron,  sailing 
northwards,  was  to  collect  the  French  transports  on  the 
coasts  of  Normandy  for  the  invasion  of  England.  Had 
Napoleon  carefully  studied  French  naval  history,  he 
would  have  seen  that  the  disaster  of  La  Hogue  was 
largely  caused  by  the  severe  weather  which  prevented 
the  rendezvous,  and  brought  about  a  hasty  and  ill- 
advised  alteration  in  the  original  scheme.  But  of  all 
subjects  on  which  he  spoke  as  an  authority,  there  was 
perhaps  not  one  that  he  had  so  inadequately  studied  as 
naval  strategy :  yet  there  was  none  wherein  the  lessons  of 
experience  needed  so  carefully  to  be  laid  to  heart. 

1  Colonel  Campbell,  onr  Commissioner  at  Elba,  noted  in  his  diary  (De- 
cember 6th,  1814)  :  **  As  I  have  perceived  in  many  conversations,  Napo- 
leon has  no  idea  of  the  difficulties  occasioned  by  winds  and  tides,  but 
judges  of  changes  of  position  in  the  case  of  ships  as  he  would  with  regard 
to  troops  on  land/* 


462  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

Fortune  seemed  to  frown  on  Napoleon's  naval  schemes  : 
yet  she  was  perhaps  not  unkind  in  thwarting  them  in 
their  first  stages.  Events  occurred  which  early  sug- 
gested a  deviation  from  the  combinations  noticed  above. 
In  the  last  davs  of  1803,  hearing  that  the  English  were 
about  to  attack  Martinique,  he  at  once  wrote  to  Gan- 
theaume,  urging  him  to  despatch  the  Toulon  squadron 
under  Admiral  Latouche-Treville  for  the  rescue  of  this 
important  island.  The  commander  of  the  troops,  Cervoni, 
was  to  be  told  that  the  expedition  aimed  at  the  M orea, 
so  that  spies  might  report  this  news  to  Nelson,  and  it  is 
clear  from  our  admiral's  despatches  that  the  ruse  half 
succeeded.  Distracted,  however,  by  the  thought  that 
the  French  might,  after  all,  aim  at  Ireland,  Nelson  clung 
to  the  vicinity  of  Toulon,  and  his  untiring  zeal  kept 
in  harbour  the  most  daring  admiral  in  the  French  navy, 
who,  despite  his  advanced  age,  excited  an  enthusiasm  that 
none  other  could  arouse. 

To  him,  in  spite  of  his  present  ill-fortune.  Napoleon 
intrusted  the  execution  of  a  scheme  bearing  date  July 
2nd,  1804.  Latouche  was  ordered  speedily  to  put  to  sea 
with  his  ten  ships  of  the  line  and  four  frigates,  to  rally 
a  French  warship  then  at  Cadiz,  release  the  five  ships 
of  the  line  and  four  frigates  blockaded  at  Rochefort  by 
CoUingwood,  and  then  sweep  the  Channel  and  convoy 
the  flotilla  across  the  straits.  This  has  been  pronounced 
by  Jurien  de  la  Graviere  the  best  of  all  Napoleon's 
plans  :  it  exposed  ships  that  had  long  been  in  harbour 
only  to  a  short  ocean  voyage,  and  it  was  free  from  the 
complexity  of  the  later  and  more  grandiose  schemes. 

But  fate  interposed  and  carried  off  the  intrepid  com- 
mander by  that  worst  of  all  deaths  for  a  brave  seaman, 
death  by  disease  in  harbour,  where  he  was  shut  up  by 
his  country's  foes  (August  20th). 

Villeneuve  was  thereupon  appointed  to  succeed  him, 
while  Missiessy  held  command  at  Rochefort.  The  choice 
of  Villeneuve  has  always  been  considered  strange  ;  and 
the  riddle  is  not  solved  by  the  declaration  of  Napoleon 
that  he  considered  that  Villeneuve  at  the  Nile  showed 
his  good  fortune  in  escaping  with  the  only  French  ships 
which  survived  that  disaster.      A  strange   reason  this : 


zxi  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  463 

to  appoint  an  admiral  commander  of  an  expedition  that 
was  to  change  the  face  of  the  world  because  his  good 
fortune  consisted  in  escaping  from  Nelson  !  ^ 

Napoleon  now  began  to  widen  his  plans.  According 
to  the  scheme  of  September  29th,  three  expeditions  were 
now  to  set  out ;  the  first  was  to  assure  the  safety  of  the 
French  West  Indies ;  the  second  was  to  recover  the 
Dutch  colonies  in  those  seas  and  reinforce  the  French 
troops  still  holding  out  in  part  of  St.  Domingo  ;  while 
the  third  had  as  its  objective  West  Africa  and  St.  Helena. 
The  Emperor  evidently  hoped  to  daze  us  by  simultaneous 
attacks  in  Africa,  America,  and  also  in  Asiatic  waters. 
After  these  fleets  had  set  sail  in  October  and  November, 
1804,  Ireland  was  to  be  attacked  by  the  Brest  fleet  now 
commanded  by  Gantheaume.  Slipping  away  from  the 
grip  of  Cornwallis,  he  was  to  pass  out  of  sight  of  land  and 
disembark  his  troops  in  Lough  Swilly.  .  These  troops, 
18,000  strong,  were  under  that  redoubtable  fighter,  Auge- 
reau  ;  and  had  they  been  landed,  the  history  of  the  world 
might  have  been  different.  Leaving  them  to  revolution- 
ize Ireland,  Gantheaume  was  to  make  for  the  English 
Channel,  touch  at  Cherbourg  for  further  orders,  and  pro- 
ceed to  Boulogne  to  convoy  the  flotilla  across  :  or,  if  the 
weather  prevented  this,  as  was  probable  in  January,  he 
was  to  pass  on  to  the  Texel,  rally  the  seven  Dutch  battle- 
ships and  the  transports  with  their  25,000  troops,  beat 
back  down  the  English  Channel  and  return  to  Ireland. 
Napoleon  counted  on  the  complete  success  of  one  or  other 
of  Gantheaume's  moves  :  "  Whether  I  have  30,000  or 
40,000  men  in  Ireland,  or  whether  I  am  both  in  England 
and  Ireland,  the  war  is  ours."^ 

The  objections  to  the  September  combination  are  fairly 
obvious.  It  was  exceedingly  improbable  that  the  three 
fleets  could   escape  at  the  time  and  in  the  order  which 

1  Jnrien  de  la  Gravidre,  vol.  ii.,  p.  88,  who  says  :  ''His  mild  and 
melancholy  disposition,  his  sad  and  modest  behavioar,  ill  suited  the 
Emperor^ s  ambitious  plans." 

a"Corresp.,"  No.  8063.  See  too  No.  7096  for  Napoleon's  plan  of 
canying  a  howitzer  in  the  bows  of  his  gun  vessels  so  that  his  projectiles 
might  burst  in  the  wood.  Already  at  Boulogne  he  had  uttered  the  pro- 
phetic words :  ''  We  must  have  shells  that  will  shiver  the  wooden  sides 
of  ships.'' 


454  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  ohax^. 

Napoleon  desired,  or  that  crews  enervated  by  long  captiy- 
ity  in  port  would  succeed  in  difficult  operations  when 
thrust  out  into  the  wintry  gales  of  the  Atlantic  and  the 
Channel.  Besides,  success  could  only  be  won  after  a 
serious  dispersion  of  French  naval  resources ;  and  the 
West  Indian  expeditions  must  be  regarded  as  prompted 
quite  as  much  by  a  colonial  policy  as  by  a  determination 
to  overrun  England  or  Ireland.^  At  any  rate,  if  the 
Emperor's  aim  was  merely  to  distract  us  by  widely  diverg- 
ing attacks,  that  could  surely  have  been  accomplished 
without  sending  twenty-six  saU  of  the  line  into  American 
and  African  waters,  and  leaving  to  Gantheaume  so  dis- 
proportionate an  amount  of  work  and  danger.  This  Sep- 
tember combination  may  therefore  be  judged  distinctly 
inferior  to  that  of  July,  which,  with  no  scattering  of  the 
French  forces,  promised  to  decoy  Nelson  away  to  the 
Morea  and  Egypt,  while  the  Toulon  and  Rochefort  squad- 
rons proceeded  to  Boulogne. 

The  September  schemes  hopelessly  miscarried.  Gkui- 
theaume  did  not  elude  Cornwsdlis,  and  remained  shut  up 
in  Brest.  Missiessy  escaped  from  Rochefort,  sailed  to  the 
West  Indies,  where  he  did  some  damage  and  then  sailed 
home  again.  ^^  He  had  taken  a  pawn  and  returned  to  his 
own  square."^  Villeneuve  slipped  out  from  Toulon 
(January  19th,  1805),  while  Nelson  was  sheltering  from 
westerly  gales  under  the  lee  of  Sardinia ;  but  the  storm 
which  promised  to  renew  his  reputation  for  good  luck 
speedily  revealed  the  weakness  of  his  ships  and  crews. 

**  My  fleet  looked  well  at  Toulon/'  he  wrote  to  Decr^  Minister  of 
Marine,  "  but  when  the  storm  came  on,  things  changed  at  once.  The 
sailors  were  not  used  to  storms :  they  were  lost  among  the  mass  of 
soldiers :  these  from  sea-sickness  lay  in  heaps  about  the  decks :  it  was 
impossible  to  work  the  ships  :  hence  yard-arms  were  broken  and  sails 

1  James,  *<  Naval  History,'*  vol.  iii.,  p.  213,  and  Chevalier,  p.  115, 
imply  that  Villeneuve's  fleet  from  Toulon,  after  scouring  the  West  Indies, 
was  to  rally  the  Rochefort  force  and  cover  the  Boulogne  flotilla :  but  this 
finds  no  place  in  Napoleon's  September  plan,  which  required  Gantheaume 
first  to  land  troops  in  Ireland  and  then  convoy  the  fiotilla  across  if  the 
weather  were  favourable,  or  if  it  were  stormy  to  beat  down  the  Channel 
with  the  troops  from  Holland.  See  O'Connor  Morris,  **  Campaigns  of 
Nelson,"  p.  121. 

«  Colomb,  **  Naval  Warfare,"  p.  18. 


XXI  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  465 

were  carried  away :  our  losses  resulted  as  much  from  clumsiness  and 
inexperience  as  from  defects  in  the  materials  delivered  by  the  ar- 
senals." ^ 

Inexperience  and  sea-sickness  were  factors  that  found  no 
place  in  Napoleon's  calculations  ;  but  they  compelled  Ville- 
neuve  to  return  to  Toulon  to  refit ;  and  there  Nelson  closed 
on  him  once  more. 

Meanwhile  events  were  transpiring  which  seemed  to 
add  to  Napoleon's  naval  strength  and  to  the  difficulties 
of  his  foes.  On  January  4th,  1805,  he  concluded  with 
Spain  a  treaty  which  added  her  naval  resources  to  those 
of  France,  Holland,  and  Northern  Italy.  The  causes  that 
led  to  an  open  rupture  between  England  and  Spain  were 
these.  Spain  had  been  called  upon  by  Napoleon  secretly 
to  pay  him  the  stipulated  sum  of  72,000,000  francs  a  year 
(see  p.  437),  and  she  reluctantly  consented.  This  was, 
of  course,  a  covert  act  of  hostility  arainst  England ;  and 
the  Spanish  Government  was  warned  at  the  close  of  1803 
that,  if  this  subsidy  continued  to  be  paid  to  France,  it 
would  constitute  "at  any  future  period,  when  circum- 
stances may  render  it  necessary,  a  just  cause  of  war" 
between  England  and  Spain.  Far  from  complying  with 
this  reasonable  remonstrance,  the  Spanish  Court  yielded 
to  Napoleon's  imperious  order  to  repair  five  French  war- 
ships that  had  taken  refuge  in  Ferrol  from  our  cruisers, 
and  in  July,  1804,  allowed  French  seamen  to  travel  thither 
overland  to  complete  the  crews  of  these  vessels.  Thus  for 
some  months  om*  warships  had  to  observe  Ferrol,  as  if  it 
were  a  hostile  port. 

Clearly,  this  state  of  things  could  not  continue ;  and 
when  the  protests  of  our  ambassador  at  Madrid  were  per- 
sistently evaded  or  ignored,  he  was  ordered,  in  the  month 
of  September,  to  leave  that  capital  unless  he  received  sat- 
isfactory assurances.  He  did  not  leave  until  November 
10th,  and  before  that  time  a  sinister  event  had  taken 

^  Jurien  de  la  Gravi^re,  vol.  11.,  p.  100.  Nelson  was  aware  of  the  fal- 
lacies that  crowded  Napoleon^s  brain :  '*  BoDaparte  has  often  made  his 
boast  that  our  fleet  woidd  be  worn  out  by  keeping  the  sea,  and  that  his 
was  kept  in  order  and  increasing  by  staying  in  port ;  but  he  now  finds, 
I  fancy,  if  emperors  hear  truth,  that  his  fleet  suffers  more  in  a  night  than 
ours  in  one  year.''  —  Nelson  to  Collingwood,  March  13th,  1805. 


466  THE  LIFB  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

place.  The  British  Ministry  determined  that  Spanish 
treasure-ships  from  South  America  should  not  be  allowed 
to  land  at  Cadiz  the  sinews  of  war  for  France,  and  sent 
orders  to  our  squadrons  to  stop  those  ships.  Four  frig- 
ates were  told  off  for  that  purpose.  On  the  5th  of  Octo- 
ber they  sighted  the  four  rather  smaller  Spanish  frigates 
that  bore  the  ingots  of  Peru,  and  summoned  them  to  sur- 
render, thereafter  to  be  held  in  pledge.  The  Spaniards, 
nobly  resolving  to  yield  only  to  overwhelming  force,  re- 
fused ;  and  in  the  ensuing  fight  one  of  their  ships  blew 
up,  whereupon  the  others  hauled  down  their  flags  and 
were  taken  to  England.  Resenting  this  action,  Spain 
declared  war  on  December  12th,  1804. 

Stripped  of  all  the  rodomontade  with  which  French  his- 
torians have  enveloped  this  incident,  the  essential  facts 
are  as  follows.  Napoleon  compelled  Spain  by  the  threat 
of  invasion  to  pay  him  a  large  subsidy :  England  declared 
this  payment,  and  accompanying  acts,  to  be  acts  of  war ; 
Spain  shuffled  uneasily  between  the  two  belligerents,  but 
continued  to  supply  funds  to  Napoleon  and  to  shelter  and 
repair  his  warships ;  thereupon  England  resolved  to  cut 
o£t  her  American  subsidies,  but  sent  a  force  too  small  to 
preclude  the  possibility  of  a  sea-fight;  the  fight  took 
place,  with  a  lamentable  result,  which  changed  the  covert 
hostility  of  Spain  into  active  hostility. 

Public  opinion  and  popular  narratives  are,  however, 
fashioned  by  sentiment  rather  than  founded  on  evidence ; 
accordingly,  Britain's  prestige  suffered  from  this  event. 
The  facts,  as  currently  reported,  seemed  to  convict  her  of 
an  act  of  piracy;  and  few  persons  on  the  Continent  or 
among  the  Whig  coteries  of  Westminster  troubled  to  find 
out  whether  Spain  had  not  been  guilty  of  acts  of  hostility 
and  whether  the  French  Emperor  was  not  the  author  of 
the  new  war.  Undoubtedly,  it  was  his  threatening  press- 
ure on  Spain  that  had  compelled  her  to  her  recent  action  : 
but  that  pressure  had  been  for  the  most  part  veiled  by 
diplomacy,  while  Britain's  retort  was  patent  and  notori- 
ous. Consequently,  every  version  of  this  incident  that 
was  based  merely  on  newspaper  reports  condemned  her 
conduct  as  brutally  piratical;  and  only  those  who  have 
delved  into  archives  have  discovered  the  real  facts  of  the 


XXI  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  467 

case.^  Napoleon's  letter  to  the  King  of  Spain  quoted  on 
p.  437  shows  that  even  before  the  war  he  was  seeking  to 
drag  him  into  hostilities  with  England,  and  he  continued 
to  exert  a  remorseless  pressure  on  the  Court  of  Madrid ; 
it  left  two  alternatives  open  to  England,  either  to  see 
Napoleon  close  his  grip  on  Spain  and  wield  her  naval  re- 
sources when  she  was  fully  prepared  for  war,  or  to  pre- 
cipitate the  rupture.  It  was  the  alternative,  mtUatis 
mutandis^  presented  to  George  III.  and  the  elder  Pitt  in 
1761,  when  the  iKing  was  for  delay  and  his  Minister  was 
for  war  at  once.  That  instance  had  proved  the  father's 
foresight ;  and  now  at  the  close  of  1804  the  younger  Pitt 
might  flatter  himself  that  open  war  was  better  than  a 
treacherous  peace. 

In  Ueu  of  a  subsidy  Spain  now  promised  to  provide 
from  twenty-five  to  twenty-nine  sail  of  the  line,  and  to 
have  them  ready  by  the  close  of  March.  On  his  side, 
Napoleon  agreed  to  guarantee  the  integrity  of  the  Spanish 
dominions,  and  to  regain  Trinidad  for  her.  The  sequel 
will  show  how  his  word  was  kept. 

The  conclusion  of  this  alliance  placed  the  hostile  navies 
almost  on  an  equality,  at  least  on  paper.  But,  as  the 
equipment  of  the  Spanish  fleet  was  very  slow,  Napoleon 
for  the  present  adhered  to  his  plan  of  September,  1804, 
with  the  result  already  detailed.  Not  until  March  2nd, 
1805,  do  we  find  the  influence  of  the  Spanish  alliance 
observable  in  his  naval  schemes.  On  that  date  he  issued 
orders  to  Villeneuve  and  Gantheaume,  which  assigned  to 
the  latter  most  of  the  initiative,  as  also  the  chief  com- 
mand after  their  assumed  junction.  Gantheaume,  with 
the  Brest  fleet,  after  eluding  the  blockaders,  was  to  pro- 
ceed first  to  Ferrol,  capture  the  British  ships  oflf  that 
port,  and  reinforced  by  the   French  and  Spanish  ships 

1  Garden,  **Trait68,"  vol.  viii.,  pp.  276-290 ;  also  Capt.  Mahan,  '•In- 
fluence of  Sea  Power,  etc.,"  vol.  ii.,  ch.  xv.  adfln.  He  quotes  the  opinion 
of  a  Spanish  historian,  Don  Jos6  de  Couto:  ••  If  all  the  circumstances  are 

Eroperly  weighed  ...  we  shall  see  that  all  the  charges  made  against  Eng- 
md  for  the  seizure  of  the  frigates  may  be  reduced  to  want  of  proper  fore- 
sight in  the  strength  of  the  force  detailed  to  effect  it.'*  — In  the  Admiralty 
secret  letters  (1804-16)  I  have  found  the  instructions  to  Sir  J.  Orde,  with 
the  Swiftsure,  Polyphemus,  Agamemnon,  Ruby,  Defence,  Lively,  and  two 
sloops,  to  seize  the  treasure-fihips.    No  fight  seems  to  have  been  expected. 


468  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chjlf. 

there  at  anchor,  proceed  across  the  Atlantic  to  the  ap- 
pointed rendezvous  at  Martinique.  The  Toulon  squad- 
ron under  Villeneuve  was  at  the  same  time  to  make  for 
Cadiz,  and,  after  collecting  the  Spanish  ships,  set  sail  for 
the  West  Indies.  Then  the  armada  was  to  return  with 
all  speed  to  Boulogne,  where  Napoleon  expected  it  to 
arrive  between  June  10th  and  July  lOth.^ 

Diverse  judgments  have  been  passed  on  this,  the  last 
and  grandest  of  Napoleon's  naval  combinations.  On  the 
one  hand,  it  is  urged  that,  as  the  French  fleets  had  seen 
no  active  service,  a  long  voyage  was  necessary  to  impart 
experience  and  efficiency  before  matters  were  brought  to 
the  touch  in  the  Straits  of  Dover;  and  as  Britain  and 
France  both  regarded  their  West  Indian  islands  as  their 
most  valued  possessions,  a  voyage  thither  would  be  cer- 
tain to  draw  British  sails  in  eager  pursuit.  Finally,  those 
islands  dotted  over  a  thousand  miles  of  sea  presented  a 
labyrinth  wherein  it  would  be  easy  for  the  French  to  elude 
Nelson's  cruisers. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  urged  that  the  success  of 
the  plan  depended  on  too  many  if 8,  Assuming  that  the 
Toulon  and  Brest  squadrons  escaped  the  blockaders,  their 
subsequent  movements  would  most  probably  be  reported 
by  some  swift  frigate  off  Gibraltar  or  Ferrol.  The  chance 
of  our  divining  the  French  plans  was  surely  as  great  as 
that  Gantheaume  and  Villeneuve  would  unite  in  the  West 
Indies,  ravage  the  British  possessions,  and  return  in  un- 
diminished force.  The  English  fleets,  after  weary  months 
of  blockade,  were  adepts  at  scouting  ;  their  wings  covered 
with  ease  a  vast  space,  their  frigates  rapidly  signalled 
news  to  the  flagship,  and  their  concentration  was  swift 
and  decisive.  Prompt  to  note  every  varying  puff  of  wind, 
they  bade  fair  to  overhaul  their  enemies  when  the  chase 
began  in  earnest,  and  when  once  the  battle  was  joined, 
numbers  counted  for  little:  the  English  crews,  inured  to 
fights  on  the  ocean,  might  be  trusted  to  overwhelm  the 
foe  by  their  superior  experience  and  discipline,  hampered 
as  the  French  now  were  by  the  lumbering  and  defective 
warships  of  Spain. 

Napoleon,  indeed^   amply  discounted  the    chances   of 

1  *»  Corresp.,"  No.  8379  ;  Mahan,  ibid,,  vol.  ii,  p.  149. 


xzi  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  459 

failure  of  his  ultimate  design,  the  command  of  the  Chan- 
nel. The  ostensible  aims  of  the  expedition  were  colonial. 
The  French  fleets  were  to  take  on  board  11,908  soldiers, 
of  whom  three-fourths  were  destined  for  the  West  Indies  ; 
and,  in  case  Gantheaume  did  not  join  Villeneuve  at  Marti- 
nique, the  latter  was  ordered,  after  waiting  forty  days,  to 
set  sail  for  the  Canaries,  there  to  intercept  the  English 
convoys  bound  for  Brazil  and  the  East  Indies. 

In  the  spring  and  summer  of  1805  Napoleon^s  correspond- 
ence supplies  copious  proof  of  the  ideas  and  plans  that  passed 
thi-ough  his  brain.  After  firmly  founding  the  new  Empire, 
he  journeyed  into  Piedmont,  thence  to  Milan  for  his  coro- 
nation as  King  of  Italy,  and  finally  to  Genoa.  In  this 
absence  of  three  months  from  Paris  (April-July)  many 
lengthy  letters  to  Decres  attest  the  alternations  of  his 
hopes  and  fears.  He  now  keeps  the  possibility  of  failure 
always  before  him  :  his  letters  no  longer  breathe  the  crude 
confidence  of  1803  :  and  while  facing  the  chances  of  fail- 
ure in  the  West  Indies,  his  thoughts  swing  back  to  the 
Orient : 

*^  According  to  all  the  news  that  I  receive,  five  or  six  thousand  men 
in  the  [East]  Indies  would  ruin  the  English  Company.  Supposing 
that  our  [West]  Indian  expedition  is  not  fully  successiul,  and  I  can- 
not reach  the  grand  end  which  will  demolish  all  the  rest,  I  think  we 
must  arrange  the  [East]  Indian  expedition  for  September.  We  have 
now  greater  resources  for  it  than  some  time  ago."  ^ 

How  tenacious  is  his  will  I  He  here  recurs  to  the  plan 
laid  down  before  Decaen  sailed  to  the  East  Indies  in 
March,  1803.  Even  the  prospects  of  a  continental  coali- 
tion fail  to  dispel  that  gorgeous  dream.  But  amid  much 
that  is  visionary  we  may  discern  this  element  of  practicality : 
in  case  the  blow  against  England  misses  the  mark.  Napo- 
leon has  provided  himself  with  a  splendid  alternative  that 
will  banish  all  thought  of  failure. 

It  is  needless  to  recount  here  the  well-known  details  of 
Villeneuve's  voyage  and  Nelson's  pursuit.  The  Toulon 
and  Cadiz  fleets  got  clear  away  to  the  West  Indies,  and 
after  a  last  glance  towards  the  Orient,  Nelson  set  out  in 

1  Letter  of  April  29th,  1805.  I  cannot  agree  with  Mahan  (p.  165)  that 
this  was  intended  only  to  distract  us. 


460  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chaf. 

pursuit.  On  the  4th  of  June  the  hostile  fleets  were  sepa- 
rated by  only  a  hundred  miles  of  sea ;  and  VilleneuTe, 
when  on  Antigua,  hearing  that  Nelson  was  so  close,  de- 
cided forthwith  to  return  to  Europe.  After  disembarking 
most  of  his  troops  and  capturing  a  fleet  of  fourteen  British 
merchantmen,  he  sailed  for  Ferrol,  in  pursuance  of  orders 
just  received  from  Napoleon,  which  bade  him  rally  fifteen 
allied  ships  at  that  port,  and  push  on  to  Brest,  where  he 
must  release  Gantheaume. 

In  this  gigantic  war  game,  where  the  Atlantic  was  the 
chess-board,  and  the  prize  a  world-empire,  the  chances  were 
at  this  time  curiously  even.  Fortune  had  favoured  Ville- 
neuve  but  checked  Gantheaume.  Villeneuve  successfully 
dodged  Nelson  in  the  West  Indies,  but  ultimately  the  pur- 
suer divined  the  enemy's  scheme  of  returning  to  Europe, 
and  sent  a  swift  brig  to  warn  the  Admiralty,  which  was 
thereby  informed  of  the  exact  position  of  affairs  on  July 
8th,  that  is,  twelve  days  before  Napoleon  himself  knew  of 
the  state  of  affairs.  On  July  20th,  the  French  Emperor 
heard,  through  Unglish  newspapers^  that  his  fleet  was  on  its 
return  voyage  :  and  his  heart  beat  high  with  hope  that 
Villeneuve  would  now  gather  up  his  squadrons  in  the  Bay 
of  Biscay  and  appear  before  Boulogne  in  overwhelming 
force  ;  for  he  argued  that,  even  if  Villeneuve  should  keep 
right  away  from  Brest,  and  leave  blockaders  and  blockaded 
face  to  face,  he  would  still  be  at  least  sixteen  ships  stronger 
than  any  force  that  could  be  brought  against  him. 

But  Napoleon  was  now  committing  the  blunder  which 
he  so  often  censured  in  his  inferiors.  He  was  "  making 
pictures  "  to  himself,  pictures  in  which  the  gleams  of  for- 
tune were  reserved  for  the  tricolour  flag,  and  gloom  and 
disaster  shrouded  the  Union  Jack  ;  he  conceived  that  Nel- 
son had  made  for  Jamaica,  and  that  the  British  squadrons 
were  engaged  in  chasing  phantom  French  fleets  around 
Ireland  or  to  the  East  Indies.  "  We  have  not  to  do," 
he  said,  "with  a  far-seeing,  but  with  a  very  proud. 
Government." 

In  reality.  Nelson  was  nearing  the  coast  of  Portugal, 
Cornwallis  had  been  so  speedily  reinforced  as  to  marshal 
twenty-eight  ships  of  the  line  off  Brest,  while  Calder  was 
waiting  for  Villeneuve  off  Cape  Finisterre  with  a  fleet  of 


XXI  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  401 

fifteen  battleships.  Thus,  when  Villeneuve  neared  the 
north-west  of  Spain,  his  twenty  ships  of  the  line  were 
confronted  by  a  force  which  he  could  neither  overwhelm 
nor  shake  off.  The  combat  of  July  22nd,  fought  amidst 
a  dense  haze,  was  unfavourable  to  the  allies,  two  Spanish 
ships  of  the  line  striking  their  colours  to  Calder  before 
the  gathering  fog  and  gloom  of  night  separated  the  com- 
batants :  on  the  next  two  days  Villeneuve  strove  to 
come  to  close  quarters,  but  Calder  sheered  off ;  there- 
upon the  French,  unable  then  to  make  Ferrol,  put  into 
Vigo,  while  Calder,  ignorant  of  their  position,  joined 
Cornwallis  off  Brest.  This  retreat  of  the  British  admiral 
subjected  him  to  a  court-martial,  and  consternation  reigned 
in  London  when  Villeneuve  was  known  to  be  on  the 
Spanish  coast  unguarded ;  but  the  fear  was  needless  ; 
though  the  French  admiral  succeeded  in  rallying  the 
Ferrol  squadron,  yet,  as  he  was  ordered  to  avoid  Ferrol, 
he  put  into  Corunna,  and  on  August  15th  he  decided  to 
sail  for  Cadiz. 

To  realize  the  immense  importance  of  this  decision 
we  must  picture  to  ourselves  the  state  of  affairs  just 
before  this  time. 

Nelson,  delayed  by  contrary  winds  and  dogged  by 
temporary  ill-luck  had  made  for  Gibraltar,  whence,  find- 
ing that  no  French  ships  had  passed  the  straits,  he  doubled 
back  in  hot  haste  northwards,  and  there  is  clear  proof 
that  his  speedy  return  to  the  coast  of  Spain  spread 
dismay  in  official  circles  at  Paris.  "This  unexpected 
union  of  forces  undoubtedly  renders  every  scheme  of  in- 
vasion impracticable  for  the  present,"  wrote  Talleyrand  to 
Napoleon  on  August  2nd,  1805.^  Missing  Villeneuve  off 
Ferrol,  Nelson  joined  Cornwallis  off  Ushant  on  the  very 
day  when  the  French  admiral  decided  to  make  for  Cadiz. 
Passing  on  to  Portsmouth,  the  hero  now  enjoyed  a  few 
days  of  well-earned  repose,  until  the  nation  called  on  him 
for  his  final  effort. 

Meanwhile  Napoleon  had  arrived  on  August  8rd  at 
Boulogne,  where  he  reviewed  a  line  of  soldiery  nine  miles 
long.  The  sight  might  well  arouse  his  hopes  of  assured 
victory.      He   had  ground   for  hoping  that   Villeneuve 

^  **  Lettres  inWtes  de  TaUeyrand,"  p.  121. 


402  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chat. 

would  soon  be  in  the  ChanneL  Not  until  August  8th 
did  he  receive  news  of  the  fight  with  Calder,  and  he  took 
pains  to  parade  it  as  an  English  defeat.  He  therefore 
trusted  tnat,  in  the  spirit  of  his  orders  to  Villeneuve 
dated  July  the  26th,  that  admiral  would  sail  to  Cadiz, 
gather  up  other  French  and  Spanish  ships,  and  return  to 
I'errol  and  Brest  with  a  mighty  force  of  some  sixty  saU 
of  the  line : 

**  I  count  on  your  zeal  for  my  senrioe,  on  tout  love  for  the  father- 
land, on  tout  hatred  of  this  Power  which  for  forty  generations  has 
oppressed  us,  and  which  a  little  daring  and  perseverance  on  your  part 
will  for  ever  reduce  to  the  rank  of  the  small  Powers :  150,000  soldierB 
.  .  .  and  the  crews  complete  are  embarked  on  2,000  craft  of  the 
flotilla,  which,  despite  the  English  cruisers,  forms  a  lon^  line  of 
broadsides  from  Etaples  to  Cape  Grisnez.  Your  voyage,  and  it  alone, 
makes  us  without  any  doubt  masters  of  England." 

Austria  and  Russia  were  already  marshalling  their 
forces  for  the  war  of  the  Third  Coadition.  Yet,  though 
menaced  by  those  Powers,  to  whom  he  had  recently 
offered  the  most  flagrant  provocations,  this  astonishing 
man  was  intent  only  on  the  ruin  of  England,  and  secretly 
derided  their  preparations.  "  You  need  not "  (so  he  wrote 
to  Eugene,  Viceroy  of  Italy)  "contradict  the  newspaper 
rumours  of  war,  but  make  fun  of  them.  .  .  .  Austria's 
actions  are  probably  the  result  of  fear."  —  Thus,  even 
when  the  eastern  horizon  lowered  threateningly  with 
clouds,  he  continued  to  pace  the  cliffs  of  Boulogne,  or 
gallop  restlessly  along  the  strand,  straining  his  gaze 
westward  to  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  his  armada.  That 
horizon  was  never  to  be  flecked  with  Villeneuve's  sails : 
they  were  at  this  time  furled  in  the  harbour  of  Cadiz. 

Unmeasured  abuse  has  been  showered  upon  Villeneuve 
for  his  retreat  to  that  harbour.  But  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  in  both  of  Napoleon's  last  orders  to  him,  those 
of  July  16th  and  26th,  he  was  required  to  sail  to  Cadiz 
under  certain  conditions.  In  the  first  order  prescribing 
alternative  ways  of  gaining  the  mastery  of  the  Channel, 
that  step  was  recommended  solely  as  a  last  alternative  in 
case  of  misfortune  :  he  was  directed  not  to  enter  the  long 
and  difficult  inlet  of  Ferrol,  but,  after  collecting  the 
squadron  there,  to  cast  anchor  at  Cadiz.     In  the  order  of 


XXI  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  463 

July  26th  he  was  charged  positively  to  repair  to  Cadiz : 
^^  My  intention  is  that  you  rally  at  Cadiz  the  Spanish  ships 
there,  disembark  your  sick,  and,  without  stopping  there 
more  than  four  days  at  most,  again  set  sail,  return  to  Fer- 
rol,  etc."  ViUeneuve  seems  not  to  have  received  these 
last  orders,  but  he  alludes  to  those  of  July  16th. ^ 

These,  then,  were  probably  the  last  instructions  he  re- 
ceived from  ]!f  apoleon  before  setting  sail  from  the  roads  of 
Corunna  on  August  13th.  The  censures  passed  on  his 
retreat  to  Cadiz  are  therefore  based  on  the  supposition 
that  he  received  instructions  which  he  did  not  receive.^ 
He  expressly  based  his  move  to  Cadiz  on  Napoleon's  orders 
of  July  16th.  The  mishaps  which  the  Emperor  then  con- 
templated as  necessitating  such  a  step  had,  in  Villeneuve's 
eyes,  actually  happened.  The  admiral  considered  the  fight 
of  July  22nd  la  mcUheureuse  affaire;  his  ships  were  en- 
cumbered with  sick ;  they  worked  badly ;  on  August  15th 
a  north-east  gale  carried  away  the  top-mast  of  a  Spanish 
ship ;  and  having  heard  from  a  Danish  merchantman  the 
news — false  news,  as  it  afterwards  appeared  —  that  Corn- 
wallis  with  twenty-five  ships  was  to  the  north,  he  turned 
and  scudded  before  the  wind.  He  could  not  divine  the 
disastrous  influence  of  his  conduct  on  the  plan  of  invasion. 
He  did  not  know  that  his  master  was  even  then  beginning 
to  hesitate  between  a  dash  on  Loudon  or  a  campaign  on 
the  Danube,  and  that  the  events  of  the  next  few  days  were 
destined  to  tilt  the  fortunes  of  the  world.  Doubtless  he 
ought  to  have  disregarded,  the  Emperor's  words  about 
Cadiz  and  to  have  struggled  on  to  Brest,  as  his  earlier 
and  wider  orders  enjoined.  But  the  Emperor's  instruc- 
tions pointed  to  Cadiz  as  the  rendezvous  in  case  of  mis- 
fortune or  great  difficulty.  As  a  matter  of  fact.  Napoleon 
on  July  26th  ordered  the  Rochefort  squadron  to  meet 
VUleneuve  at  Cadiz;  and  it  is  clear  that  by  that  date  Napo- 
leon had  decided  on  that  rendezvous,  apparently  because 
it  could  be  more  easily  entered  and  cleared  than  Ferrol, 
and  was  safer  from  attack.      But,  as  it  happened,  the 


1  Jurien  de  la  GravidTe,  vol.  ii.,  p.  S67. 

2  Thiers  writes,  most  disingenuously,  as  though  Napoleon's  letters  of 
August  13th  and  22nd  could  have  influenced  Villeneuye. 


464  THE  UFS  OF  17AP0LE0N  I  chap. 

Bochef ort  squadron  had  already  set  sail  and  failed  to  sight 
an  enemy  or  friend  for  several  weeks. 

Such  are  the  risks  of  naval  warfare,  in  which  even  the 
greatest  geniuses  at  times  groped  but  blindly.  Nelson 
was  not  afraid  to  confess  the  truth.  The  French  Emperor, 
however,  seems  never  to  have  made  an  admission  which 
would  mar  his  claim  to  strategic  infallibility.  Even  now, 
when  the  Spanish  ships  were  proved  to  clog  the  enterprise, 
he  persisted  in  merely  counting  numbers,  and  in  asserting 
that  ViUeneuve  might  stiU  neutralize  the  force  of  Calder  and 
Comwallis.  These  hopes  he  cherished  up  to  August  23rd, 
when,  as  the  next  chapter  will  show,  he  faced  right  about  to 
confront  Austria.  His  Minister  of  Marine,  who  had  more 
truly  gauged  the  difficulties  of  all  parts  of  the  naval  enter- 
prise, continued  earnestly  to  warn  him  of  the  terrible  risk 
of  burdening  ViUeneuve's  ships  with  unseaworthy  craft  of 
Spain  and  oi  trusting  to  this  ill-assorted  armada  to  cover 
the  invasion,  now  that  their  foes  had  divined  its  secret. 
The  Emperor  bitterly  upbraided  his  Minister  for  his 
timidity,  and  in  the  presence  of  Daru,  Intendant  General 
of  the  army,  indulged  in  a  dramatic  soliloquy  against 
ViUeneuve  for  his  violation  of  orders :  *'  What  a  navy  I 
What  an  admiral  I  What  sacrifices  for  nothing !  My 
hopes  are  frustrated  —  Daru,  sit  down  and  write "  — 
whereupon  it  is  said  that  he  traced  out  the  plans  of 
the  campaign  which  was  to  culminate  at  Ulm  and 
Austerlitz.^ 

The  question  has  often  been  asked  whether  Napoleon 
seriously  intended  the  invasion  of  England.  Certainly 
the  experienced  seamen  of  England,  France,  and  Holland, 
with  few  exceptions,  declared  that  the  flat-bottomed  boats 
were  unseaworthy,  and  that  a  frightful  disaster  must  ensue 
if  they  were  met  out  at  sea  by  our  ships.  When  it  is 
further  remembered  that  our  coasts  were  defended  by 
batteries  and  martello  towers,  that  several  hundreds  of 

1  Dupin,  '*  Voyages  dans  la  Grande  Bretagne  "  (tome  i.,  p.  244),  who 
had  the  facts  from  Dara.  But,  as  Mdneval  sensibly  says  (**  Mems./' 
vol.  i.,  ch.  y.),  it  was  not  Kapoleon^s  habit  dramatically  to  dictate  his 
plans  so  far  in  advance.  Certainly,  in  military  matters,  be  always  kept 
his  imagination  subservient  to  facta.  Not  until  September  22nd  did  he 
make  any  written  official  notes  on  the  final  moves  of  his  chief  corps ; 
besides,  the  Austrians  did  not  cross  the  Inn  till  September  8th. 


ih  bulldog.    Li  Iraili  i Amirnt  m 


Medal  struck  to  o 

KROll    BOL'LOCif 
O^'.  Napokon.     Rn:   Hcii:ulc»  cms 


MF.DALS. 
From  DeUrochc's  "  Trt?^r  <1e  Xiimismaliqiie  "  and  Kilnarila'  "  Napoleon  Medals.' 


zxi  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  465 

pinnaces  and  row-boats  were  ready  to  attack  the  flotilla 
before  it  could  attempt  the  disembarkation  of  horses, 
artillery,  and  stores,  and  that  180,000  regulars  and  militia, 
aided  by  400,000  volunteers,  were  ready  to  defend  our 
land,  the  difficulties  even  of  capturing  London  will  be 
obvious.  And  the  capture  of  the  capital  would  not  have 
decided  the  contest.  Napoleon  seems  to  have  thought  it 
would.  In  his  voyage  to  St.  Helena  he  said  :  "  I  put  all 
to  the  hazard  ;  I  entered  into  no  calculations  as  to  the 
manner  in  which  I  was  to  return  ;  I  trusted  all  to  the  im- 
pression the  occupation  of  the  capital  would  have  occa- 
sioned."^ —  But,  as  has  been  shown  above  (p.  441),  plans 
had  been  secretly  drawn  up  for  the  removal  of  the  Court 
and  the  national  treasure  to  Worcester ;  the  cannon  of 
Woolwich  were  to  be  despatched  into  the  Midlands  by 
canal ;  and  our  military  authorities  reckoned  that  the 
systematic  removal  of  provisions  and  stores  from  all  the 
districts  threatened  by  the  enemy  would  exhaust  him  long 
before  he  overran  the  home  counties.  Besides,  the  inva- 
sion was  planned  when  Britain's  naval  power  had  been 
merely  evaded,  not  conquered.  Nelson  and  Cornwallis 
and  Calder  would  not  for  ever  be  chasing  phantom  fleets  ; 
they  would  certainly  return,  and  cut  Napoleon  from  his 
base,  the  sea. 

Again,  if  Napoleon  was  bent  solely  on  the  invasion  of 
England,  why  should  he,  in  June,  1806,  have  offered  to 
Russia  and  Austria  so  gratuitous  an  affront  as  the  annexa- 
tion of  the  Ligurian  Republic  ?  He  must  have  known 
that  this  act  would  hurry  them  into  war.  Thiers  con- 
siders the  annexation  of  Genoa  a  "grave  fault"  in  the 
Emperor's  policy — but  many  have  doubted  whether  Na- 
poleon did  not  intend  Genoa  to  be  the  gate  leading  to  a 
new  avenue  of  glory,  now  that  the  success  of  his  naval 
dispositions  was  doubtful.  Marbot  gives  the  general 
opinion  of  military  circles  when  he  says  that  the  Emperor 
wanted  to  provoke  a  continental  war  in  order  to  escape 
the  ridicule  which  the  failure  of  his  Boulogne  plans  would 
otherwise  have  aroused.    "  The  new  coalition  came  just  at 

^  Diary  of  General  Bingham,  in  **Blackwood*8  Magazine,"  October, 
1890.  The  accompanying  medal,  on  the  reverse  of  which  are  tlie  words 
'*  frappte  &  Londres,  en  1804,'*  affords  another  proof  of  his  intentions. 

2h 


466  THE  LIFE  OF  KAPOLEON  I  chap. 

the  right  moment  to  get  him  out  of  an  annoying  situation.*' 
The  compiler  of  the  Fouche  "  Memoirs,"  which,  though 
not  genuine,  may  be  accepted  as  generally  correct,  took 
the  same  view.  He  attributes  to  Napoleon  the  noteworthy 
words  :  "  I  may  fail  by  sea,  but  not  by  land  ;  besides,  I 
shall  be  able  to  strike  the  blow  before  the  old  coalition 
machines  are  ready  :  the  kings  have  neither  activity  nor 
decision  of  character:  I  do  not  fear  old  Europe."  The 
Emperor  also  remarked  to  the  Council  of  State  that  the 
expense  of  all  the  preparations  at  Boulogne  was  fully 
justified  by  the  fact  that  they  gave  him  "fully  twenty 
days'  start  over  all  enemies.  ...  A  pretext  had  to  be 
found  for  raising  the  troops  and  bringing  them  together 
without  alarming  the  Continental  rowers  :  and  that 
pretext  was  afforded  me  by  the  projected  descent  upon 
England.  "1 

It  is  also  quite  possible  that  his  £(im  was  Ireland  as 
much  as  England.  It  certainly  was  in  the  plan  of  Sep- 
tember, 1804 :  and  doubtless  it  still  held  a  prominent 
place  in  his  mind,  except  during  the  few  days  when  he 
pictured  Calder  vanquished  and  Nelson  scouring  the 
West  Indies.  Then  he  doubtless  fixed  his  gaze  solely 
upon  London.  But  there  is  much  indirect  evidence 
which  points  to  Ireland  as  forming  at  least  a  very  im- 
portant part  of  his  scheme.  Both  Nelson  and  CoUing- 
wood  believed  him  to  be  aiming  at  Ireland.^ 

But  indeed  Napoleon  is  often  unfathomable.  Herein 
lies  much  of  the  charm  of  Napoleonic  studies.  He  is 
at  once  the  Achilles,  the  Mercury,  and  the  Proteus  of 
the  modern  world.  The  ease  with  which  his  mind 
grasped  all  problems  and  suddenly  concentrated  its  force 
on  some  new  plan  may  well  perplex  posterity  as  it  dazed 
his  contemporaries.  If  we  were  dealing  with  any  other 
man  than  Napoleon,  we  might  safely  say  that  an  invasion  of 
England,  before  the  command  of  the  sea  had  been  secured, 
was  infinitely  less  likely  than  a  descent  on  Ireland.  The 
landing  of  a  corpB  d'armSe  there  would  have  provoked  a 

iMarbot,  **Mems.,"  ch.  xix. ;  Fouch6,  **Mema.,"  part  1;  Miot  de 
Melito,  "Mems.,"  vol.  ii.,  ch.  i. 

2  See  Nelson's  letters  of  August  25th,  1808,  and  May  Ist,  1804  ;  alao 
Collingwood's  of  July  21st,  1806. 


XXI  THE  BOULOGNE  FLOTILLA  467 

revolution;  and  British  ascendancy  would  have  vanished 
in  a  week.  Even  had  Nelson  returned  and  swept  the  seas, 
Ireland  would  have  been  lost  to  the  United  Kingdom; 
and  Britain,  exhausted  also  by  the  expenses  which  the 
Boulogne  preparations  had  compelled  her  to  make  for  the 
defence  of  London,  must  have  succumbed. 

If  ever  Napoleon  intended  risking  all  his  fortunes  on 
the  conquest  of  England,  it  can  be  proved  that  his.  mind 
was  gradually  cleared  of  illusions.  He  trusted  that  a 
popular  rising  would  overthrow  the  British  Government: 
people  and  rulers  showed  an  accord  that  had  never  been 
known  since  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne.  He  believed,  for 
a  short  space,  that  the  flotiUa  could  fight  sea-going  ships 
out  at  sea :  the  converse  was  proved  up  to  the  hilt. 
Finally,  he  trusted  that  Villeneuve,  when  burdened  with 
Spanish  ships,  would  outwit  and  out-manoeuvre  Nelson  I 

What  then  remained  after  these  and  many  other  dis- 
appointments? Surely  that  scheme  alone  was  practicable, 
in  which  the  command  of  the  sea  formed  only  an  unim- 
portant factor.  For  the  conquest  of  England  it  was  an 
essential  factor.  In  Ireland  alone  could  Napoleon  find 
the  conditions  on  which  he  counted  for  success — a  dis- 
contented populace  that  would  throng  to  the  French 
eagles,  and  a  field  of  warfare  where  the  mere  landing  of 
20,000  veterans  would  decide  the  campaign.^ 

And  yet  it  is,  on  the  whole,  certain  that  his  expedition 
for  Ireland  was. meant  merely  to  distract  and  paralyze 
the  defenders  of  Great  Britain,  while  he  dealt  tiie  chief 
blow  at  London.  Instinct  and  conviction  alike  prompted 
him  to  make  imposing  feints  that  should  lead  his  enemy 
to  lay  bare  his  heart,  and  that  heart  was  our  great  capital. 
His  indomitable  will  scorned  the  word  impossible  —  "a 
word  found  only  in  the  dictionary  of  fools  "  ;  he  felt  Eng- 
land to  be  the  sole  barrier  to  his  ambitions  ;  and  to  crush 
her  power  he  was  ready  to  brave,  not  only  her  stoutest 
seamen,  but  also  her  guardian  angels,  the  winds  and 
storms.  Both  the^  man  and  the  occasion  were  unique  in 
the  world's  history,  and  must  not  be  judged  according  to 

1  Li  "  F.  0.,"  France,  No.  71,  is  a  report  of  a  spy  on  the  interview  of 
Napoleon  with  O'Connor,  whom  he  made  General  of  Diyision.  See 
Appendix,  p.  470. 


468  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I  chap. 

tame  probabilities.  For  his  honour  was  at  stake.  He 
was  so  deeply  pledged  to  make  use  of  the  vast  prepara- 
tions at  his  northern  ports  that,  had  all  his  complex  dis- 
positions worked  smoothly,  he  would  certainly  have 
attempted  a  dash  at  London;  and  only  after  some  ade- 
quate excuse  could  he  consent  to  give  up  that  adventure. 
The  excuse  was  now  furnished  by  Villeneuve's  retreat 
to  Cadiz;  and  public  opinion,  ignorant  of  Napoleon's 
latest  instructions  on  that  subject,  and  knowing  only 
the  salient  facts  of  the  case,  laid  on  that  luckless  admiral 
the  whole  burden  of  blame  for  the  failure  of  the  scheme 
of  invasion.  With  front  unabashed  and  a  mind  presag- 
ing certain  triumphs.  Napoleon  accordingly  wheeled  his 
legions  eastward  to  prosecute  that  alluring  alternative, 
the  conquest  of  England  through  the  Continent. 


APPENDIX 

[7%6  ttoo  following  State  Papers  have  never  before  been 

publisTied,'] 

No.  I.  is  a  despatch  from  Mr.  Thornton,  our  chargS  cPaffaires 
at  Washington,  relative  to  the  expected  transfer  of  the  vast 
region  of  Louisiana  from  Spain  to  France  (see  ch.  xv.  of  this 
vol.). 

[In  «F.  0.,"  America,  No.  36.] 

"  Washington, 

<<  26  Jany.,  1802. 

''MtLord, 
"...  About  four  years  ago,  when  the  rumour  of  the  transfer  of 
Louisiana  to  France  was  first  circulated,  I  put  into  Mr.  Pickering's 
hands  for  his  perusal  a  despatch  written  by  Mr.  Fauchet  about  tne 
year  1794,  which  with  many  others  was  intercepted  hj  one  of  H.M. 
ships.  In  that  paper  the  French  Minister  urged  to  his  Govemment 
the  absolute  necessity  of  acquiring  Louisiana  or  some  territory  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  United  States  in  order  to  obtain  a  permanent  influence 
in  the  country,  and  he  alluded  to  a  memorial  written  some  years  before 
by  the  Count  du  Moutier  to  the  same  effect,  when  he  was  employed  as 
His  Most  Christian  Majesty's  Minister  to  the  United  States.  The 
project  seems  therefore  to  have  been  long  in  the  contemplation  of  the 
French  Grovemment,  and  perhaps  no  period  is  more  favourable  than 
the  present  for  carrying  it  into  execution. 

"When  I  paid  my  respects  to  the  Vice-President,  Mr.  Burr,  on  his 
arrival  at  this  place,  he,  of  his  own  accord,  directed  conversation  to 
this  topic.  He  owned  that  he  had  made  some  exertion  indirectljr  to 
discover  the  truth  of  the  report,  and  thought  he  had  reason  to  believe 
it.  He  appeared  to  think  that  the  cnreat  armament  destined  by  France 
to  St.  Domingo,  had  this  ulterior  object  in  view,  and  expressed  much 
apprehension  that  the  transfer  ana  colonization  of  Louisiana  were 
meditated  by  her  with  the  concurrence  or  acquiescence  of  His  Maj*" 
Gov*.  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  give  any  opinion  on  this  part  of 
the  measure,  which,  whatever  may  be  its  ultimate  tendency,  presents 
at  first  view  nothing  but  danger  to  His  Maj"  Trans-Atlantic  posses- 
sions. 

«  Regarding  alone  the  aim  of  France  to  acquire  a  preponderating 
influence  in  the  councils  of  the  United  States,  it  may  be  very  well 
doubted  whether  the  possession  of  Louisiana,  and  the  means  which 
she  would  chuse  to  employ  are  calculated  to  secure  that  end.    Experi- 

469 


470  THE  LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  I 

ence  seems  now  to  have  sanctioned  the  opinion  that  if  the  pToyinces 
of  Canada  had  been  restored  to  France  at  the  Peace  of  Paris,  and  if 
from  that  quarter  she  had  been  left  to  press  upon  the  American  fron- 
tier, to  harass  the  exterior  settlements  and  to  mingle  in  the  feuds  of 
the  Indian  Tribes,  the  colonies  might  still  have  preserved  their  alle- 
giance to  the  parent  country  and  have  retained  tneir  just  jealousy  of 
that  system  of  encroachment  adopted  by  France  from  the  beginning 
of  the  last  century.  The  present  project  is  but  a  continuance  of  the 
same  system;  and  neither  her  power  nor  her  present  temper  leave 
room  for  expectation  that  she  wiUpursue  it  with  less  eagerness  or 
greater  moderation  than  before.  Wnether,  therefore,  she  attempt  to 
restrain  the  navigation  of  the  Mississippi  or  limit  the  freedom  oi  the 
port  of  New  Orleans ;  whether  she  press  upon  the  Western  States  wiUi 
any  view  to  conquest,  or  seduce  them  by  her  principles  of  fraternity 
(for  which  indeed  they  are  well  prepared)  she  must  infallibljr  alienate 
the  Atlantic  States  and  force  them  into  a  straiter  connection  with 
Great  Britain. 

*<  I  have  scarcely  met  with  a  person  under  whatever  party  he  may 
rank  himself,  who  does  not  dread  this  event,  and  who  would  not  pre- 
fer almost  any  neighbours  to  the  French :  and  it  seems  perfect  infatu- 
ation in  the  Administration  of  this  country  that  they  chuse  the  present 
moment  for  leaving  that  frontier  almost  defenceless  by  the  reduction 
of  its  militaiy  estaolishment. 

*^  I  have,  etc., 

"  [Signed]  Edw»  Thornton." 

No.  IL  is  a  report  in  "  F.  0./'  France,  No.  71,  by  one  of  our 
spies  in  Paris  on  the  doings  of  the  Irish  exiles  there,  especially 
O'Connor,  whom  Napoleon  had  appointed  General  of  Diyision 
in  Marshal  Augereau's  army,  then  assembling  at  Brest  for  the 
expedition  to  Ireland.  After  stating  O'Connor's  appointment^ 
the  report  continues : 

<<  About  eighty  Irishmen  were  sent  to  Morlaix  to  be  formed  into  a 
company  of  officers  and  taueht  how  they  were  to  discipline  and 
instruct  their  countrymen  wnen  they  landed  in  Ireland.  McShee, 
G^n^ral  de  Brigade,  commands  them.  He  and  Blackwell  are,  I  believe, 
the  only  persons  amone  them  of  any  consequence,  who  have  seen 
actual  service.  Emmett^  brother  and  McDonald,  who  were  jealous  of 
the  attention  paid  to  O^Connor,  would  not  eo  to  Morlaix.  They  were 
prevailed  on  to  go  to  Brest  towards  the  end  of  May,  and  there  to  join 
General  Humbert.  Commandant  Dalton,  a  young  man  of  Irish  ex- 
traction, and  lately  appointed  to  a  situation  in  the  Army  at  Boulogne, 
tranadated  everything  oetween  O'Connor  and  the  War  Department  at 
Paris.  There  is  no  Irish  Committee  at  Paris  as  is  reported.  O'Con- 
nor and  General  Hartry,  an  old  Irishman  who  has  been  long  in  the 
French  service,  are  the  only  persons  applied  to  by  the  French  Govern- 
ment, O'Connor  for  the  expedition,  and  Hartry  for  the  Police,  etc.,  of 
the  Irish  in  France. 


APPENDIX  471 

"  O'Connor,  ihongh  he  had  long  tried  to  have  an  audience  of  Bona- 
parte, never  saw  him  till  the  20tD  of  May  [1805],  when  he  was  pr&> 
sented  to  him  at  the  levee  by  Marshal  Augereau.  The  Emperor  and 
the  Empress  complimented  him  on  his  dress  and  military  appearance, 
and  Bonaparte  said  to  him  Venez  me  voir  en  particulier  demain  matin, 
O'Connor  went  and  was  alone  with  him  near  two  hours.  On  that 
day  Bonaparte  did  not  say  a  word  to  him  respecting  his  intention  on 
Eneland;  all  their  conversation  regarded  Ireland.  O'Connor  was 
with  him  again  on  the  Thursday  and  Friday  following.  Those  three 
audiences  are  all  that  O'Connor  ever  had  in  private  with  Bonaparte. 

^*  He  told  me  on  the  Saturday  evening  that  he  should  eo  to  Court 
the  next  morning  to  take  public  leave  of  uie  Emperor,  and  leave  Paris 
as  soon  as  he  had  received  10,000  livres  which  Maret  was  to  five  him 
for  his  travelling  expenses,  etc.,  and  which  he  was  to  have  m  a  day 
or  two.  His  horses  and  all  his  servants  but  one  had  set  off  for  Brest 
some  time  before. 

<*  Bonaparte  told  O'Connor,  when  speaking  of  the  prospect  of  a 
continental  War,  <la  Russie  peut-dtre  pourroit  envoyer  oette  ann^ 
100,000  hommes  contre  la  France,  mais  i'ai  pour  cela  assez  de  monde 
k  ma  disposition:  je  ferois  mSme  marcher,  s'il  le  faut,  une  armee 
contre  la  Russie,  et  si  I'Empereur  d'Allemagne  refusoit  un  passage  k 
cette  arro^e  dans  son  pays,  je  la  ferois  passer  malgr^  lui.'  He  aner- 
wards  said  —  *  il  y  a  plusieurs  moyens  de  d^truire  1' Angleterre,  mais 
celui  de  lui  dter  Irian  de  est  bon.  Je  vous  donnerai  25,000  bonnes 
troupes  et  s'il  en  arrive  seulement  15,000,  ce  sera  assez.  Vous  aurez 
aussi  150,000  fusils  pour  armer  vos  compatriotes,  et  un  pare  d'artillerie 
l^g^re,  des  pieces  de  4  et  de  6  livres,  et  toutes  les  provisions  de  guerre 
n^cessaires.' 

^  O^Connor  endeavoured  to  persuade  Bonaparte  that  the  best  way  to 
conquer  England  was  first  to  go  to  Ireland,  and  thence  to  England 
with  200,000  Irishmen.  Bonaparte  said  he  did  not  think  that  would 
do;  (Tailleurs  he  added,  ce  seroit  trop  long.  They  agreed  that  all  the 
English  in  Ireland  should  be  exterminated  as  the  whites  had  been  in 
St.  Domingo.  Bonaparte  assured  him  that,  as  soon  as  he  had  formed 
an  Irish  army,  he  should  be  Commander  in  Chief  of  the  French  and 
Irish  forces.  Bonaparte  directed  O'Connor  to  try  to  gain  over  to  his 
interest  Laharpe,  the  Emperor  of  Russia's  tutor.  Laharpe  had  applied 
for  a  passport  to  go  to  St.  P^tersbourg.  He  says  he  will  do  eveiything 
in  his  power  to  engage  the  Emperor  to  go  to  war  with  Bonaparte. 
Laharpe  breathes  nothing  but  vengeance  against  Bonaparte,  who, 
besides  other  injuries,  turned  his  back  on  him  in  public  and  would 
not  speak  to  him.  Laharpe  was  warned  of  O'Connor^s  intended  visit, 
and  went  to  the  country  to  avoid  seeing  him.  The  Senator  Garat  is 
to  go  to  Brest  with  O'Connor  to  write  a  constitution  for  Ireland. 
O'Connor  is  getting  out  of  favour  with  the  Irish  in  France;  they 
begin  to  suspect  his  ambitious  and  selfish  views.  There  was  a  cool- 
ness between  Admiral  Truguet  and  him  for  some  time  previous  to 
Truguet's  return  to  Brest  Augereau  had  given  a  dinner  to  all  the 
principal  officers  of  his  army  then  at  Paris.  Truguet  invited  all  of 
them  to  dine  with  him,  two  or  three  days  after,  except  O'Coniiur. 
O'Connor  told  me  he  would  never  forgive  him  for  it." 


YC  7sn80